


Two Outcasts and a Baby

by N7rmandy



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, it makes sense I promise, like completely canon divergent post s1, no y/n, reader has force powers sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 74,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22045033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N7rmandy/pseuds/N7rmandy
Summary: You’re on the run, he’s always moving. There’s a magic child you have a surprising amount in common with. It’s almost like the universewantedyou to end up here. But the further you delve into your complicated past, the more the web tangles. Things are going to get worse before they get better.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 74
Kudos: 312





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here from my other fic, you're in the right place! Though btw, THAT chapter won't be for quite a bit yet. 
> 
> Anyway I was writing this just for myself but people liked the one shot I posted so whaddya know! Here we are!

Days of waiting around on this god-forsaken planet, days of picking pockets and dodging questions, and you finally think you might have a way out.

You saw the ship as soon as it docked. You saw every ship that docked. The problem was finding one that a.) you could hide in and b.) didn’t have a whole crew that may try to murder you if they found you. This one seemed to fit the criteria. Hell, there only seemed to be one person onboard. Unsurprising, as it was a small ship, even more so than some of the clunkers that showed up around here. 

Still, just to be on the safe side, you figured you’d tail the pilot for awhile, see what his business was. As soon as he stepped outside, you started to have doubts. You’d never seen anyone wearing armor like that. He was certainly a bounty hunter of some sort, that much was clear. He was visibly armed, and _heavily_ armed, you might add, and his armor reflected the blazing desert sun like a light. It made him physically difficult to look at, but you couldn’t look away. 

Maintaining your distance, you tailed him into the cantina, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room, just barely keeping the stranger in your line of sight. The first thing you noticed was the reactions of other patrons. Every being with eyes had their sights on him, but were all being painstakingly careful not to be obvious about it. Some looks were of disdain, other of simple unease. For one reason or another, they were nervous. 

You weren’t sure if it was simply the artillery he carried or if there was something you weren’t comprehending about the stranger. These days, there was a lot you didn’t comprehend. 

He was still one man. How dangerous could he be? You could be dangerous as well, if need be. Besides, ideally you’d be able to secure transport without his ever knowing. Get to the ship, hide out in some secluded niche of the cargo hold, then just stay quiet for a while. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two, depending on where the bounty hunter was headed. 

Though you weren’t entirely sure he _was_ a bounty hunter. If he was, he was in the wrong place to be looking for work. A tiny, backwater pit like this place barely had the capacity to house it’s own population, let alone bring in outside work. Though you supposed it might be the perfect hiding place for a fugitive in that case. In a sense, you _were_ a fugitive. Not from the law, of course, not exactly. Though you weren’t much sure who the law even was anymore. 

Whatever the case, you reckoned you had a little while to make your move. Refusing to waste any more time, you slipped out of the dusty cantina, tracing your steps back to ship that would be your salvation. 

—

Getting into the ship had been the easy part. The ramp had been left down, the dock worker charged with repairs probably asleep on the job somewhere. The hard part had been finding a place to hide. The ship was even smaller on the inside than it had initially appeared. After some rummaging around the cargo bay (if you could even call it that), you found a loose panel in the floor that opened up to some kind of hidden cache or compartment. The panel had been difficult to remove, suggesting it hadn’t been moved in quite some time. Plus, the space was empty, suggesting it hadn’t been used in sometime and probably wouldn’t be used any time soon. It was the perfect place for a stowaway.

The compartment was definitely small, but you could survive being in there for a day or two. You just hoped that’s all it would take. Once inside, you were careful to replace the panel as tightly as it had been before. The last thing you needed was for that bounty hunter to accidentally kick it open just from walking over it. You had some space to move around thankfully, though you couldn’t quite stand up. Otherwise, there was even enough floor space for you to lay down. 

The only problem you may encounter was staying quiet. After all, you were directly below the floor, only a thin sheet of metal separating you from the cargo hold. All it would take is an inopportune sneeze or cough to give you away. Hopefully, that bounty hunter wouldn’t be able to hear much through that thick helmet of his. 

You settled in for the long haul, thankful you had managed to get your hands on a small meal of broth that morning. It might be awhile before you got to eat again. Hopefully the next planet would have even the slightest idea of what spices were.

———

The Mandalorian returned to his ship, tired but also content in a way, now that he was returning to something of a usual routine. With his guild status gratefully reinstated by Greef Karga and the Imperials off their back (for now), his main focus was on taking care of his Foundling. He knew he had to find the child’s home eventually, but he hadn’t the slightest clue where to start looking. Besides, he still needed money if they were to have food and a functioning ship. For now, he was content to finding new work. He had just returned from meeting a client, having taken on a new assignment. Thankfully, there were many planets on which the guild operated. If all went well, both he and the child would eat well for weeks to come. 

Speaking of the child, the Mandalorian’s first task upon reentering the ship he called home was to go check on the kid. He’d left it in the usual compartment in the middle of a nap. Seeing as he’d barely been gone a few hours, the kid was hopefully still asleep. 

Upon seeing the compartment empty, the Mandalorian’s heart rate spiked, despite this having happened on numerous occasions. He spun around to begin his frantic search only for the little womp-rat to be standing behind him, not a care in the world for the alarm he’d caused his foster parent. 

The Mandalorian wanted to be mad, and he really tried, but it just wasn’t worth it. Besides, the kid had a way of getting to him with those big round eyes, so full of natural curiosity. Not that he’d admit it, of course. 

With the kid by his side, he made his way to the cockpit to plot their next destination. 

——

Content that they were safely adrift for the time being, the Mandalorian sat back from the controls in contemplation. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a concrete location on his current target. The client didn’t have a tracking fob, which made this job considerably more difficult. Fortunately, there were other ways to track people. The target had last been seen in a particularly remote region of the outer rim. It was a starting point at least.

The Mandalorian sighed, realizing this job could take much longer than he’d like. At present, food and supplies were beginning to run low. He may have to soon reduce his own rations in order for the child to be able to get enough to eat. It was still growing, and likely would be for a very long time, and it’s health was his top priority at all times. 

As if on cue, the child made a signature cooing sound, pulling the Mandalorian from his thoughts. 

“What do you think?” He responded, knowing full well the child couldn’t understand him. Although the more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure _what_ that child knew. For a creature that didn’t speak, it sure seemed to demonstrate a deeper understanding of things than most creatures of his relative age. 

With another coo, this time of a higher pitch, the child got down from his seat and began making his way out of the cockpit. Normally the Mandalorian would stop him, but seeing as they weren’t going anywhere currently, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to indulge the child’s whims for once. 

Following the child was a slow process, as his footsteps were significantly shorter than those of his caretaker, but the Mandalorian was in no particular hurry. He was curious as to what the child was so adamant on seeing. 

With only minor assistance needed to open the entry hatch, the child had made his way clear to the opposite end of the ship all on his own. Upon entering the cargo hold, the Mandalorian gently scooped up the child who whined angrily in response. 

“There’s nothing for you in here,” he said in his usual flat tone, “You could get hurt playing here. Let’s go.” The child wouldn’t hear it, however, struggling as much as his tiny limbs could muster in his caretaker’s firm hold. 

Letting out a sigh, the Mandalorian relented, setting the child back down. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m keeping an eye on you. You’ll only get bored in here anyway.” He took a step back, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms as he watched the child wander the room. 

——

You’d woken up when you heard the hatch to the cargo hold open. As the sound of heavy footsteps entered the room, you went dead silent, even keeping a hand over your mouth for good measure. You were certain the bounty hunter was back, though you had no clue what for. You’d only taken flight a couple of hours ago by your measure. 

The sound of a voice sent your heart racing faster. Were there two of them? Did he bring a passenger back with him from the cantina? It seemed unlikely that anyone there would have willingly chosen to travel with him. 

The even stranger thing was that you only heard one set of footsteps. Also, he seemed to be the only one speaking. You could even make out his voice from here, fairly monotone and ever so slightly modulated, no doubt from the helmet. He was definitely speaking to someone, but the conversation was one-sided. 

For a few minutes, the room was quiet. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he had stopped moving. Closing your eyes to the little bit of light that filtered into your crawl space, you concentrated all your attention on any other sounds in the room. Eventually you thought you could make out a gentle, slow shuffling some feet away, but you hadn’t a single idea what it could be. It was far too light to be the bounty hunter. Did he have some kind of animal in here? Some kind of small pet? You certainly hadn’t seen or heard anything when you’d come in and you’d searched the room top to bottom. 

The shuffling made its way closer to you until it was directly overhead. You plead desperately that if it was some kind of animal, it couldn’t smell you. 

“What are you doing over there?” Your heart skipped a beat at the Mandalorian’s voice, and then another when you heard his footsteps coming your way. You held your breath, the only sound coming from you the racing of your heart. 

The steps halted and the sound of something brushing the floor above you could be heard. 

“It’s just a storage space, there’s nothing in there,” he said. You silently begged that he kept believing those words. 

He seemed ready to walk away until you heard what you could’ve sworn sounded like a whine or some kind of _cooing_.

“I told you, there’s nothing—“ his voice stopped. You had no choice but to inhale just as he spoke, though you’d tried to keep it as quiet as possible. You feared it may not have been enough. 

After what felt like an hour, he spoke again, “Hang on.” He walked away briefly, crossing to the other side of the room before returning. “You stay over there,” he ordered. The telltale sound of a blaster being removed from its holster told you that you were in trouble. 

This was it, you figured. You were as good as discovered. There was nowhere for you to hide within the compartment and in a matter of seconds you’d no doubt be face-to-face (or rather, face-to-helmet) with an angry bounty hunter. You had no choice but to use the element of surprise to your advantage. 

The second the Mandalorian’s fingers had pried up the metal panel, you leapt from your hiding place as a cornered Nexu would. He was caught off guard, however briefly, as the metal panel was flung from his grip into his face, preventing him from immediately shooting you. Within a second he had regained his composure, but that was all the time you’d needed. By the time his blaster was raised, you’d already drawn yours on the bounty hunter. 

“Don’t. Move.” You watched him freeze before he could train his gun on you, but that wasn’t enough to stop your your hand from shaking. You gripped the blaster with both hands in an effort to hide your fear.

“Who are you? How did you get on my ship?” The Mandalorian’s words were less of a question and more of a demand, despite the fact that he was the one at gunpoint. 

“You should be careful who you pay to fix your stuff,” you sneered. “Never know when they might be asleep on the job.” Despite the fact that you’d gotten the drop on him, you still got the feeling that he was in control of the situation and he knew it. “Now you’re going to take me to the nearest planet with a decent port and we can pretend like this never happened.”

“I’m not going to do that,” he said calmly, only infuriating you further. He even had the gall to set his weapon down while he threatened you. Who did he think he was? 

“Look, I’m not messing around pal. All you had to do was leave me alone and I would’ve been out of your hair in no time. So really it’s your fault that—“ You made the mistake of taking a step closer, thinking that having a gun to this hunter’s head meant you were in control. Boy, were you wrong. 

Faster than your brain could process, the bounty hunter turned and bent your arm upward, forcing you to fire a shot into the ceiling. Not that it mattered, however, as his increasing grip forced you to open your hand, the blaster clattering to the floor as you cried out. He then forced your arm behind your back and you fell to your knees, leaving you unable to defend yourself as you gritted your teeth in pain. 

“That still doesn’t answer my first question. Who are you?” Though you couldn’t see his face (or helmet for that matter), you could tell that the voice in your ear was deadly serious. Still, if there was any plus side to the situation, it’s that he hadn’t killed you yet. 

“If you’re going to kill me, then do it already,” you hissed, deciding to call his bluff. 

“You and I both know that I’m not going to do that,” he said, once again frustratingly calm. “But if you don’t start talking now, I will not hesitate to keep you frozen in carbonite until I find whoever is willing to pay for your bounty.” 

You relented, relaxing your shoulders as much as you could with both arms forcibly pinned behind your back. “There’s no bounty on me, I’m not a criminal.” 

“Then why are you hiding on my ship.” 

“I just needed a lift off that planet ok, and you seemed like an easy pick. Not too— AGH!” You yelped as he twisted your arm again, making sure you still understood the gravity of the situation. “—not too _threatening_. Clearly I was wrong.”

He was silent a moment, contemplating what you’d said. “Not many people would describe me as non-threatening.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was being snarky or not. Whenever he spoke, his voice was completely calm and level, which was somehow worse. “You just looked like some bounty hunter, okay! How was I supposed to know?” 

He paused again and you really wished he’d get on with it. You were losing feeling in your arms. You couldn’t tell if his silence was merely to annoy you or if he was just like that. 

“Most people recognize a Mandalorian when they see one.” He didn’t say it with any sense of boasting, it was simply a matter of fact. 

You thought for a moment, trying to think if you’d heard that anywhere before. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been around here that long and there was still a lot you didn’t know about just about the entire galaxy. 

“I... I don’t know what that is. I’m not... from around here.” You chose your words carefully, hoping not to prompt any questions on the matter. 

Whether he was content or not with your answer you didn’t know, but you were relieved when the pressure on your arms relented finally. The feeling was brief, however, as you were immediately put in handcuffs. 

“What’s the big idea!? I thought we reached an understanding!” You turned to face him as you struggled to your feet. It was only now you realized what an imposing figure he is up close. He seemed to loom over you despite not possibly being more than a few inches taller. The blank stare of his helmet made him even more intimidating, as if he was as emotionless as a droid. As a matter of fact, you’d seen droids with more expression. 

“If the understanding is that I’m leaving you on the next planet we come across, inhabited or otherwise, then yes, we have an understanding.” The Mandalorian had decided you weren’t a real threat and despite what people thought of him and his people, he wasn’t one for unnecessary violence. 

“Wait, you’re just going to leave me in the middle of nowhere?” You took a step towards him as he began to turn away. “I can’t just survive the wilderness in any backwoods planet! Please, just wherever you were going next, whatever port, just take me with you and leave me there.” 

The Mandalorian just turned his head slightly back towards you, as if weighing the pros and cons of your plan. Your story was strange and riddled with holes. It didn’t make any sense. _You_ didn’t make any sense. He may be a man of few words, but he had a million questions.

“Do you not have anywhere to go? Anywhere specific?” 

You’d been keeping quiet about your personal information as much as possible, but you didn’t have much left for options. “I... I don’t have anywhere to go, no. I just have to keep moving.” 

“What exactly happens for someone like you to end up ship-hopping? You sound like you’re on the run.” The Mandalorian was sharper than people gave him credit for. From what little he understood of you, he could tell you weren’t the average vagrant. You wanted to keep moving, and were willing to put yourself in considerable danger to do so. The only reason you would do so was if you were running from something even more dangerous.

“Look, when I said I’m not from around here... I meant I’m _really_ not from around here.” You looked away from him, hoping to end the conversation. Unfortunately you wouldn’t have such luck. 

“That’s not an answer.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say there was just a hint of growing impatience in the Mandalorian’s voice. 

Something snapped in you and it was enough to set you off. “You want answers? Fine. I’m on the run, okay?! There’s people after me that I’m pretty sure want to kill me, I’ve got no money, no allies, no family, and I’m trapped in a galaxy I don’t recognize anymore, alright?! Is that what you want? Does that answer your questions, _Mandalorian_?” You hadn’t realized until you finished your rant that you’d actually stepped closer to the bounty hunter. In fact, you were face to face, and this time you wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You glared at him with as much pure anger as you could muster. It was strange, seeing your distorted reflection facing back at you from the chrome surface of his helmet. You realized you looked like a crazy person. Probably sounded like one too. 

The Mandalorian was hardly shocked by your sudden ferocity. He was even familiar with it. In his line of work, one came to recognize the face of prey when it had run out places to run. For once, however, he didn’t intend to be the hunter. 

“Who’s after you?” was all he said. It was the only part he deemed important right now. 

You took a step back, eyes widened in surprise. That was the last thing you’d expected him to care about. “I don’t entirely know,” you said, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “One day they captured me. I don’t even know for sure what they were going to do. They had a bunch of soldiers I think. They always talked about their empire or something like that. But what I’ve been hearing lately is that the Empire is gone so really I don’t know what’s going on.”

You couldn’t see it of course, but the Mandalorian had raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Empire. He had his own grudges against the now-defunct sovereign, of course, both cultural and personal. “Why would they be after you, exactly? You say you have nothing, what could they possibly want?” 

Now was as good of a time as any to show off your little party trick, you supposed. “Like I said, I don’t know for sure. But I get the feeling that it may have something to do with _this_.” And with that, the cuffs around around your wrists clattered to the ground, the metal fizzling and warped beyond repair. You raised your open hands from behind your back and the Mandalorian took a rushed step backwards, hand hovering over his blaster but not yet drawing it. 

“What was that?!” His patience was wearing thin. You were just one mystery after another, and he was certainly not getting the answers he’d asked for. 

You kept your hands up in a display of peace. “To put it simply, it’s... a _power_ of mine, for lack of a better word.” You slowly knelt down and reached for the smoldering remains of the cuffs. You kept one hand up in a show of surrender and never looked away from the Mandalorian. Holding the piece of metal out in front of you, you closed your fingers around it and focused your energy to your hand as you’d done a million times before. A brilliant white light emanated from your palm, the turning the metal to molten liquid, leaving your skin unscathed. 

The Mandalorian looked on in awe. Beneath the steely facade of his helmet, his eyes were wide and eyebrows raised. This power of yours was unlike anything he’d ever even heard of, let alone seen. His mind turned to memories of the child and the mysterious powers it possessed. While it had never done anything quite like this, he couldn’t help but draw a connection between you and it. 

What remained of the cuffs fell from your hand, little more than a molten lump now. The Mandalorian knew that if this was even a fraction of your power, than it made sense the Empire would be after you, the same way they’d been after the child. 

“That’s definitely not something you see every day. I see why the Empire would be after you.” If what you’d said was true, then he wanted to help. Though he couldn’t yet trust you of course. For all he knew, this was an elaborate ruse and you were there to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first time. Just because he’d survived an Imperial squadron on one planet doesn’t mean they were done with him for good, he figured. 

“So you see my problem then. So far I haven’t found anywhere that they don’t eventually find me. That’s why I have to keep moving.” You brushed your hands together quickly, casting off the last drops of the rapidly-cooling metal. 

Now, the Mandalorian never saw himself as a particularly charitable man, nor was he very trusting. However, he definitely wasn’t the same as he had been even a year ago. Somehow, he’d become an adopted parent, a trusted ally to many, and even a friend to a few. To do so must require at least some level of kindness, whether he saw it or not. 

An idea came to mind in his head. He knew it was a dangerous idea and he certainly expected it to backfire on him, but if there was even a sliver of a chance that another of the Empire’s victims could be saved, he felt honor-bound to try.

“Since you don’t have anywhere to go, what would you say to a job?” He may have worded it as a question, but there was really only one answer for you, provided he was being serious. 

“Wait, what?” You were stunned. The man who had threatened you seconds ago was suddenly offering you what may be your last hope. “You’re really going to let me stick around?” 

He could hardly believe it himself, but his mind was set. “I’m offering you _work_ and in return, a place to hide out. Don’t get me wrong, if you cause problems for me, if you try anything funny even once, being stranded in the middle of nowhere will be the least of your worries.” 

It didn’t take much for you to get the point, and you could tell he wasn’t bluffing. His voice had shifted almost imperceptibly, but that was all it took for you to fully grasp the threat. Luckily, you had no intentions of turning on him, though you knew getting his genuine trust was likely out of the question. 

You straightened your back as much as possible, bringing you to your full height as you held out your hand. “It’s a deal, then.” 

There was a moment of silence as you waited for the Mandalorian to shake your hand, but he refused. He’d seen what those hands could do. Instead, he gave you a nod along with a firm “Deal.” 

From the opposite side of the room, a whine drew your attention. Or rather, not a whine but a squeak of sorts. A small, green, floppy-eared creature stood atop a crate. Its big, dark eyes peered right at you.

“What is _that_?” Your tone was not of disgust but rather of genuine amazement. You’d seen some very strange things recently but this little gremlin was something else entirely. It was surprisingly adorable in an alien sort of way. 

“It’s a child,” the Mandalorian said defensively, quickly making his way across the room to pick up the child, who cooed happily at the attention. 

“Sorry, I just haven’t seen anything like it before, that’s all I meant. Is it uh... is it yours?” You suddenly wondered if the Mandalorian looked like that under the helmet. All green and... wrinkly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” was all the answer you got. “He stays with me. All you need to worry about is your first job.” He turned and made his way to the door, motioning for you to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have the reader's backstory pretty worked out but it's intentionally left vague for now. And yeah I'm taking some liberties with the Mandalorian creed but oh well. Also all character and planet names are pulled from a name generator so hopefully there's not some obscure sw character whose name I'm using lol
> 
> Also, I love comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter's a bit filler but it is longer than the previous one. Plenty of exposition. I'll hopefully get the next one up faster

Now that you weren’t in a hurry to hide, you were able to get a better view of the ship’s interior. There wasn’t much for open space, the cargo hold probably being the largest room onboard. It also looked like it had seen better days, though you certainly weren’t going to complain. As long as it flew, that’s what mattered. 

The cockpit was really only designed to hold one, maybe two people, pilot included. The Mandalorian set the child in his makeshift passenger seat before taking the pilot’s seat. You stood behind him to his left, careful not to touch any of the complicated-looking controls, though that was harder than it sounded given the small space. You had never had any sort of training as a pilot, so most of the various buttons and displays went over your head. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t figure it out if necessary, you’d just had no real experience in flying. 

The Mandalorian brought up an image on a holographic display and you leaned forward to get a better view. The image was crackly and out of focus, but you could certainly make out the figure of a man, face partially obscured by a hood. “The target is an ex-Imperial assassin by the name of Dagos. Since the Empire’s collapse, he’s been on a rampage, hunting down retired Alliance soldiers and leaving a trail of destruction in his path. We need to bring him in alive.” 

The Mandalorian spoke matter-of-factly, the scenario familiar in a number of ways. This wasn’t his first assassin, and certainly wasn’t his first Imp. He knew better than to let his guard down, however. The worst mistake a hunter can make is underestimating their prey. 

“Do you have any sort of training?” He turned just enough to see you out of the corner of his visor. 

“Formally, no. Not in combat at least.” You were no soldier, never had been. Your skills lay elsewhere. But thanks to your powers and ingenuity, you were still plenty capable of defending yourself. 

The Mandalorian would’ve preferred another answer but he’d take what he could get. “Well, Dagos will definitely put up a fight, so be prepared. As long as he’s alone, we’ll at least have him outnumbered. He was last seen on a planet called Cyrtos. Supposedly his ship went down there. Luckily it’s a small planet and we have a rough estimation of where his ship is so the plan is to find any sort of civilization nearby and see if anyone will talk. Think you can handle that?”

You were surprised how well laid-out his plan was, especially if he’d just picked up the job on your last planet. You got the sense he’d done this more times than you’d care to count. “Do you think people will just openly talk to two random strangers?” 

He began fiddling with a few controls, no doubt plotting your course. “If this guy is killing people, they might just be happy to get rid of him. If that fails, there’s always other options.” 

You hoped he just meant bribery, but you weren’t going to ask for clarification. Instead, you chose to keep your mouth shut. 

“Once we enter hyperspace, we should be there in less than an hour.” He reached for a lever before pausing, “You better hold onto something.” You braced yourself on the wall by the doorway just in time to avoid being thrown backwards. The ship lurched and you glanced over at the child who let out an excited giggle from the safety of his seat. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable sight. 

Though the Mandalorian seemed cold and intimidating, you knew he couldn’t be evil. Whatever his reasoning for allowing you to stay, you got the sense it was more for your benefit than his. From the little interaction you’d seen between him and the child, you could tell he cared very much for the little creature. That was about as far from evil as it got. Now you only had to convince him that the same was true of you. 

With some time to kill, you turned your attention to the stars flying past. You tried not to show it but you were truly, deeply in awe. Almost all of your time spent in space had been in hiding deep within a ship so you never really got a good look outside. Even back home you had never seen the stars from anywhere other than the ground. To see them streaming by like the tails of comets at unfathomable speeds took your breath away. 

You didn’t even notice the way the Mandalorian was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. He had long since grown accustomed to the sights that space had to offer, but seeing your reaction brought up memories he’d thought he’d forgotten. The way your eyes dilated as if to take in every last drop of light, the way your lips parted ever so slightly, even the way your shoulders had relaxed reminded him of when he was a boy. The first time he’d been on a ship, he thought the stars were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought of anything as beautiful. 

When you accidentally made eye contact with the Mandalorian, you were quick to avert your gaze. You were so quick to look down at your feet, in fact, that you didn’t catch him also turning away fleetingly. For a few minutes there was only silence, something you weren’t too fond of. You decided to take the chance and break it, hoping the Mandalorian would at least humor you with conversation. 

“So...do you have a name?” You hadn’t realized until now that you didn’t know his name. Good thing you didn’t wait until it was awkwardly late to ask. 

“Yes.” Full stop. No follow up, just a one-word response. 

“Are... are you going to tell me it?”

“No.” 

So you were starting to get the feeling he wasn’t much of a talker. Still, you were gonna need a better answer than that. “So what am I supposed to call you then? ‘Hey you’?”

“Just Mandalorian is fine, since that’s what I am.” 

You huffed, wondering if he was being difficult intentionally or if you’d just gotten stuck with possibly the bluntest man in the entire galaxy. “So everyone just calls you that, huh? ‘Mandalorian’?” 

“Yes.” He paused briefly before adding, “Sometimes Mando, usually either as an insult or if they know me.” 

“Wait, ‘Mandalorian’ is the name of your people, right? So ‘Mando’ isn’t like, kind of rude?” Honestly you felt it was rude to call someone just about anything that wasn’t their name, but that was kind of hard to avoid in this case. 

“It makes no difference to me.” If he was bothered by it, then he could tell people his name. His culture didn’t specifically forbid it, but many Mandalorians were extremely private by nature and therefore only shared their name to those close to them. The idea of just anyone calling him Din was uncomfortable to say the least. 

You were curious about the Mandalorians. He’d made it clear that they had a particular reputation, but you’d certainly never seen one before. At least, not that you knew of. “So, tell me about the Mandalorians then.” 

“How about you tell me where you came from, instead. And maybe how you have those abilities.” He’d had enough of talking about himself, even with the limited amount of information he’d shared. 

You sighed, having hoped to avoid this conversation. Though you supposed it was only fair after asking him similar questions. “You wouldn’t have heard of my planet, no doubt.”

“Try me.”

Who were you to refuse a demand like that. “Fine. I’m from Vollalei.” 

The Mandalorian tilted his head ever so slightly, wracking his brain. He knew he’d heard the name before, but he was struggling to remember anything about it. After a moment it hit him, and he also knew why he couldn’t remember it. As far as anyone knew, there was nothing special about the planet. “Vollalei was mined out years ago, the land isn’t even livable. Nobody’s from there, not anymore.”

You felt your heart sink to your stomach, suddenly wishing you hadn’t brought up the subject in the first place. As the Mandalorian’s words sunk in, you realized just how long you’d been gone. A small part of you hoped he was thinking of another planet, but deep down you knew he was right. The thought would sit heavy in your chest for some time but for now you couldn’t let him see that. “Well, _I_ am.” You made an effort to keep your voice as level as possible. 

The Mandalorian was surprisingly good at reading people, especially when they were hiding something, and you were hiding something big. He knew he wasn’t going to get answers out of you right now, however, and didn’t press the topic any further. “What about your... _powers_?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject. 

“I was born with them. Well, up until I was a teenager they only manifested on rare occasions like if I was really, really angry or sad. Probably a good thing. Can you imagine a toddler with the ability to set things on fire?” You laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. He didn’t laugh. 

He _could_ imagine that, in fact. He turned to his right just enough to see the child playing happily with that little silver ball. He was suddenly extremely grateful that the child’s powers had yet to be nearly as destructive as yours.

A single beep from the console drew both of your attentions. The Mandalorian took over the controls once more after double checking that the child was still secure in his seat. “Hold on,” he said as the ship dropped out of light speed. 

Cyrtos’ surface was countless shades of green, from the vibrancy of an emerald to the near-blackness of trees dotting the mountains. There were small seas across the planet, but they barely took up half of its surface from what you could tell. It was beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, you wondered how it hadn’t been overtaken and ultimately ruined yet by the rich and powerful. 

As you approached the surface, the Mandalorian kept an eye out for any signs of a settlement. He figured there would be one somewhere along the coastline or somewhere with lots of flat land. He was thankful for the approximate coordinates that the client had given him, otherwise he could spend days combing the entire planet. 

Passing over what seemed like a nearly endless forest, he spotted some kind of settlement nestled along the rocky coastline. Upon approach, he realized it was actually a fair-sized town. They’d no doubt spotted him by now. As he began to circle back around, he noticed a flat rocky outcrop that would be a perfect place to land. As the ship began to descend, he turned back to you. “Once we’re out there, stay close and let me do the talking for now.” 

Normally you didn’t much care for being bossed around, but you weren’t going to argue. Besides, he clearly knew what he was doing. 

With the ship safely on the ground, the Mandalorian made his way out of the cockpit with you close behind. 

“Wait, what about the kid? Do you just leave him there?” You turned back to see the little child had already climbed down from his seat and was watching you from the doorway. 

“Trust me, he’ll be fine. We’ve done this before.” The Mandalorian stopped to look at the child as well. The little one smiled and raised his hand, waving goodbye to the two of you as best he could. You waved back slowly, still baffled by the little creature. The Mandalorian hesitated, caught off guard by the sight that even he had to admit was adorable. Despite his normally stoic attitude, he gave in and waved back ever so slightly, stopping as soon as you turned to face him. “Let’s keep moving.” He seemed to walk a bit faster after that. 

Once outside, you could see the edge of the town just down below. A few people seemed to stop and gawk. No doubt they hadn’t had a visitor in sometime, but most simply continued their day. A few took one look at the Mandalorian and hurried away. He simply kept on walking, not acknowledging their stares. 

“Guess you weren’t joking about people recognizing Mandalorians, huh?” You whispered just loud enough for him to hear you. You were walking fairly close behind, making it abundantly clear that you were with him. Not that anyone noticed you much, anyway. Armor like that could draw the attention of a blind man.

“Joking's not one of my strong suits,” he said, completely seriously. You weren’t sure if that _was_ his idea of a joke. His tone suggested otherwise. 

It was early in the day and there were plenty of people out and about. More than a few were from species you didn’t recognize. The Mandalorian seemed to know what to look for, just not where. He would look over an area for barely a second and be on the move again. Despite his apparent confidence, you thought maybe he was lost. Just as you were about to ask, however, he made a beeline for a busy-looking building. He stopped and turned to you just before reaching the doors. 

“Alright, here’s the plan. I’m going to go in first and see who I can get to talk. I need you to go in shortly after and watch my back. Don’t let people know you’re with me. Plenty of people don’t take too kindly to bounty hunters showing up so make sure you keep an eye out, got it? If it looks like anyone’s gearing up for a fight, then you let me know. Oh, and try not to draw attention to yourself.” 

“I think you’ve had no trouble keeping people’s attention thus far.” You sort of huffed, certain that you were the last thing people would be paying attention to. 

“Fair enough.” With that, the Mandalorian turned and headed inside, leaving you alone outside. You weren’t sure just how long to wait, but you weren’t going to make it too long. You didn’t like the idea of anyone noticing you standing around. You leaned on a wall as casually as you could, absentmindedly tapping your foot repeatedly. You couldn’t hear anything from inside, which you took as a good sign for now. You gave it a few more seconds for good measure before heading inside.

The room was surprisingly full considering the time of day. There were people all around drinking, eating, talking, a few even playing cards. There was a tension in the air however. At the center of the room was a circular bar where the Mandalorian sat. He was having a conversation with the bartender who looked surprisingly indifferent to his presence. You found your way to an empty table nearby, just close enough to listen in on the conversation and still have a good view of the room. 

Most people had gone back to whatever they were doing but there was one table in the corner that concerned you. A older man sat by himself, watching the Mandalorian intently. He was so focused on the Mandalorian, in fact, that he definitely didn’t notice you staring at him. Your view was suddenly blocked, however, when a tired-looking woman with an apron approached you. She asked if you wanted anything and you did your best to make up a story on the spot. You politely told her no and said you were waiting for someone. She nodded and hurried off. When you looked back to the table, the man was gone. 

While it could just be a coincidence, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t. You would’ve gotten up to warn the Mandalorian, but it sounded like he’d finally gotten somewhere with the bartender. 

“Look, I’m really not the guy to talk to,” the man said, watching the glass in his hand more than the bounty hunter he was taking to. “Why don’t you go ask old Thomas, he can answer your questions.” 

The Mandalorian was getting frustrated. This guy clearly knew what he was talking about, but was far from inclined to help. He really didn’t want to have to resort to bribery, as funds were low enough as it was. If he was being sent on a goose-chase, he’d be furious. “Fine,” he sighed, the sound coming out like static through his helmet. “Where kind I find him?” 

The bartender just sort of shrugged and began wiping down the counter. “He’s around here somewhere I’m sure. He always is. You’ll know him when you see him. Wears a pilot’s jacket, rebel starbird on the front. Can’t miss it.” 

You made your way over to the Mandalorian just as he was getting up. You took the seat next to him, facing away from the counter and trying to keep your voice down. “Might have trouble. Not sure. There was a guy watching you like a hawk. Real gruff type. Next thing I know he vanishes.” 

He slowly turned to look around the room, trying not draw any more attention. “What was he wearing?” 

You shook your head, “A jacket I suppose? I don’t know, I didn’t get a good look.” 

The Mandalorian was quiet a moment, searching the room once more before standing up. “Let’s go, before he comes back with his friends.”

You followed him outside, the door barely shutting behind you before you were stopped. 

“There’s only one thing a Mandalorian would be lookin’ for around here.” You spun around to see the man from before had been waiting just around the corner. Two smaller, yet equally intimidating guys stood on either side of him. You took a step back but the Mandalorian didn’t move. He barely even turned his head toward the man before responding. 

“I hear you can help me with that, _Thomas_.” He didn’t reach for his blaster yet, making it clear he wasn’t looking for a fight. 

The man smirked and you noticed an emblem on his jacket. It was a sort of crescent shape with a three-pronged star coming from the center of it. You didn’t recognize it yourself, other than maybe once or twice in passing, but you felt pretty certain it was the rebel symbol you’d heard about. 

“Depends. Why should I?” Despite his age, Thomas was a known fighter. He’d taken out guys half his age and twice the muscle before. There was a reason he survived the war. Between him and his friends, he might just be able to give the Mandalorian a run for his money. At least if they were fighting fair. 

“How about vengeance for all your friends that Dagos killed. He may even be aiming for you next.” The Mandalorian nodded at Thomas’ jacket. 

There was a long moment of silence, no one quite sure who was going to act next. At any moment, there was still the threat of a fight breaking out. 

You nearly jumped when Thomas let out a laugh. It was a hearty, genuine laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Ah, Mando. I’m just giving you a hard time. No one wants that Imp dead more than I do, trust me.”

The tension in the Mandalorian’s shoulders released ever so slightly. The odds of this man helping them had seemed slim to begin with, and he wasn’t going to worsen them further by mentioning that he didn’t plan on killing Dagos. He glanced at you and noticed your jaw clench, a sure sign that you were still ready for a fight if need be. He turned back to Thomas. “So you’ll help us find him then?” 

Thomas nodded. “Aye, finding him is the easy part. There’s been plenty who have ‘found’ Dagos.” His tone suddenly turned dark, the jovial mood from a moment ago now nonexistent. “Everyone knows exactly where he is, it’s just that we can’t stop him. This town simply doesn’t have the fire power. We’ve sent whole parties out to get him and not one person has come back. Not one ‘cept me.” 

“And how did you get back, exactly?” You asked. You still didn’t trust this guy, even if he was part of the Alliance or whatever. You knew nothing about the war, what reason had you to trust them besides word of mouth? That wouldn’t be enough for you.

Thomas sneered and turned away, as if ashamed. “Cowardice, that’s how. All those years I fought those damn Imps but going up against this one man? I couldn’t do it. I watched everyone around me drop like flies before we could even get close to him.” 

“What do you mean, ‘dropped’?” The Mandalorian was calm, despite the situation. He knew the easiest way this would work out for everyone is if you all just talked it out. Compared to his usual missions, this was pretty much best-case scenario.

“Dagos was the Empire’s best sharpshooter. Still is. Never seen anything like it. We barely had his ship in sight before people started dropping. The second we left cover, it was over. I crawled my way through the muck for nearly a mile just to get back without him seeing me.” Thomas’ head hung low. He was clearly ashamed of what he’d done. 

You suddenly felt sorry for him. “It doesn’t sound like you could’ve done anything to save them.” You took a step toward him, though still maintaining a comfortable distance. “It’s not your fault.”

He looked up again, narrowing his eyes at you. You weren’t sure if he appreciated your gesture or resented it. “I don’t know about all that,” he said slowly. “But all I can do for ‘em now is help hunt down the bastard that killed ‘em.” He turned back to the Mandalorian. “And who better than a Mandalorian to ask for help?”

The Mandalorian stepped toward Thomas, taking a place by your side. “You don’t have to ask. I’m already on the job.. But you can tell me where to find him.”

Thomas walked around the two of you and pointed down a nearby street. “You follow this alley here, you’ll reach a gate out of town. First thing you’ll see is woods. Go straight north until you hit the valley. Dagos’ ship went down there. You can’t miss it. Took down a whole ton of trees. Barely a two hours’ walk. If you’ll leave now, you’ll be there before sundown.”

“He didn’t leave his ship?” You asked. 

Thomas shrugged. “Didn’t need to, I s’pose. It looked like it was still pretty intact, but it’s not flying. That much I could tell. Guess it’s pretty fortified. And it’s out in the open, so it’s basically impossible to sneak up on.”

The Mandalorian turned to leave, but stopped just before he passed Thomas. “Thank you for your help. Your friends’ deaths will not be in vain.” The Mandalorian knew what it was like to lose friends. He knew the guilt of surviving when they did not. And he knew that the best way to honor them was to keep living. Because their deaths are only truly in vain when there’s no one left to remember their sacrifices. For that, he respected Thomas.

You gave Thomas a solemn nod as you followed the Mandalorian down the road towards the gate in silence. You had a feeling it was going to be a quiet walk.

—

The forest was densely packed with more trees than you thought you’d seen in your whole life, and no two looked quite the same. It was also incredibly loud. You’d spent some portion of time in the wilderness before back home, but none of the forests on your planet had compared to this. The air was filled with the songs of birds and a chorus of insects. You weren’t even sure which category, if either, many of the sounds belonged to. These trees no doubt held all sorts of strange flora and fauna. 

The Mandalorian hardly seemed concerned, not that you could really tell. You didn’t speak as you walked but rather you simply watched him. His cape fluttered heavily with each step. You noticed the edges were ragged and torn. It made you wonder how much battle that armor had seen. How long had he lived like this? On that thought, your gaze drifted to the back of his helmet. The sun was high in the sky, its rays reaching through the trees to grasp the shining chrome. You were reminded of the first time you saw him. It was barely a day ago now but it felt much longer. When you’d first seen him leave his ship, the reflected light had made him nigh impossible to look directly at. He was like a sun. Now the light was softer, casting patterns through the branches that danced across the metal surface. It was almost mesmerizing. 

Lost in your observations, you couldn’t have known what was running through the Mandalorian’s head. He intended to focus on the mission at hand, but couldn’t help it when his thoughts began to wander. He was wondering what he’d gotten himself into this time. Not with the bounty, of course, but with you. Every time he thought his life had settled on a path again, something new would be tossed at him, leaving him more than a little lost. Each time, he wound up doing things he would never expect from himself. When he had rescued the child, _his_ child, he had hardly been thinking. It was an impulsive action. He never regretted it, however, not one bit. He had had plenty of reasons to leave that child, just as he had every reason to leave you stranded yet here you were. He hoped you would be less trouble.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been walking until you nearly ran smack into the Mandalorian. Up ahead, you noticed the trees ended, giving way to a steep drop. 

“Stay here. I’m going just ahead. It’ll only be a moment.” The Mandalorian took off toward the tree line, dropping to a crouch as he got near. He moved slowly, never fully going past the trees. You stood back, debating whether or not to follow before remembering Thomas’ story. His men had barely gotten sight of Dagos’ ship before being gunned down. You weren’t going to test the accuracy of his tale. 

The Mandalorian kept as low as he could under the shade of a tree. He also took heed of what Thomas had said and knew he that he was dead if Dagos spotted him. He looked over the area below, a clearing where Dagos’ ship still remained. It was surprisingly intact after all, but one of the engines was all but obliterated. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t been engulfed in flames. Dagos himself could be anywhere inside. In fact, he could be on the lookout right now. There was no way of knowing, and the ship provided him perfect cover. There was no way either of you would be able to make it from the trees to the ship without being noticed. He didn’t have his rifle, but even if he did it wouldn’t make much of a difference. The Mandalorian was something of a sharpshooter himself but he knew Dagos had too much of an advantage. No, the only way to get to Dagos was to get inside. 

He slid back away from the edge slow as he could, only standing when he was absolutely certain it was safe and making his way back to you.

“So, what’s the plan?” 

“For now, nothing. If we cross that tree-line now, we’re dead. We’ll wait until nightfall and then sneak onboard when he can’t see us.” He took a seat at the base of a tree, making himself as comfortable as he could.

“That sounds insanely dangerous. We’re going to sneak up on an _assassin_?” You crossed your arms and remained standing. 

The Mandalorian leaned forward, one arm rested on his knee and the other pointing towards the ship. “There’s no cover between here and that ship and we can’t see Dagos from here. Even if I had my rifle it’d be suicide to go out there now. Our best chance is to wait until dark.” 

You sighed and took a seat opposite him, settling in for another long wait. It would be another couple hours or so before the sun went down. You were beginning to wonder why he’d brought you here. What use were your powers now? What had he seen in you that he thought would be worth keeping around? Or did he merely do it as an act of kindness? It looked like you’d have more than enough time to ponder your thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the reader seems a bit unhelpful or underdeveloped here, don't worry. You'll get your chance to shine very soon (pun unintended). Also chapters after this are gonna start being a little shorter, sorry. These take me ages to (as I'm sure you may have noticed) and my schedule is about to get much busier. It's the only way I think I'll still be able to get them posted in a somewhat timely manner


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get one more chapter out before classes start up again tomorrow

You were starting to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. He’d barely moved since he sat down and hadn’t said a word, though the latter seemed to be the norm for him. You thought about getting up and trying to wake him, but the sun hadn’t gone down quite yet. If he was in fact asleep, then you’d leave him be. He probably needed the rest. 

You pulled your jacket tighter around you as the temperature began to plummet. You were anxious to get moving again, if even just to warm up. You tuned in on the sounds around you to distract yourself. The trees were still filled with the noises of insects, but new sounds also drew your attention. Occasionally you’d hear what sounded like a distant yowl or whistle. It was vaguely unsettling. As the light grew dimmer, it became increasingly difficult to see your surroundings. Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you jump.

“Relax.” You jumped again, startled by the Mandalorian’s voice. 

“Dammit, Mando! I thought you were asleep!” You ran your hands over your arms to warm up.

“I’ve been awake the whole time.” He noticed your discomfort, making a mental reminder to find you some warmer clothes when the chance arose. “It’s almost dark enough now. Just a little longer.”

“Good. I’m about to freeze to death over here.” You noticed your breath had become visible when you exhaled. 

The Mandalorian went quiet again. He seemed to stare off into the woods, at least as much as you could tell. Now that you knew he was awake, the silence was all the more uncomfortable.

“Hey can I ask you a question?” 

“Nothing’s stopped you before.” You we’re almost taken aback by his sudden snark. However, he didn’t explicitly say no, so you asked anyway. 

“What’s with that— the kid on your ship? Is he actually yours?” 

The Mandalorian was caught off guard a bit by the question, expecting you to ask just about anything else. He hesitated, turning to face you as he thought about his answer. “He’s not mine by birth, if that’s what you mean. But he is in my care indefinitely.”

“How did a bounty hunter end up taking care of a baby?” Happy that he was actually talking to you, the cold made it’s way to the back of your mind. His story was more interesting. 

“He was a bounty. He was to go to the Empire, or some remnant of them at least. I found out they were going to kill him and... I disagreed. I’ve been taking care of him since. Whatever he is, those people are willing to go to extreme lengths to get him back.”

“And why’s that? Why do they want him so badly, I mean?” You thought back to the little guy. He hardly seemed to be all that special, as far as the Empire would be concerned anyway. 

“He...” The Mandalorian trailed off, trying to find the words to describe the child. He also debated whether or not he should share that information with you, but you hardly seemed like an Imp or a hunter. He was pretty well certain you weren’t after the child. “He’s special. Like you, I think.” 

You didn’t have the words to respond. Special? How was that possible? How could the little alien be like you?

“He’s got... abilities. Not exactly like yours, not as far as I know anyway. But he’s able to do things I’ve never seen another living creature do before.”

You suddenly thought you’d like to see the child more once you got back. You wondered where he had come from. Were there other planets out there with people like you? Was that even possible? If only the little one could talk. “Where is he from?” 

The Mandalorian began to think he may have said more than he should, but there was no going back now so what was the point in hiding the rest? “I don’t know. I’m trying to find out. The problem is that I’ve got no idea where to start. I’ve never even seen anyone like him before. Supposedly he’s from a planet of some kind of... sorcerers. I don’t know.”

You heard the Mandalorian sigh. He clearly cared about the child. It made you wonder if he really wanted to take him home. “Well... maybe I can help you.”

He didn’t respond to that. Maybe because he still wasn’t sure how to feel about giving up the child. He knew it was what needed to be done, but the idea of parting ways with the little one caused an ache in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when the child was gone.

You figured that was about all the conversation you were going to get for awhile. You had a feeling he’d spoken more with you than he had with anyone in some time. “Anyway, are we about ready to go? It’s gotten plenty dark I think. I can barely see my hand in front of my face.” Just to make your point, you waved your palm in front of your eyes dramatically. 

“We should be good. Just follow me and keep low.” You nodded in response and followed him toward the edge of the trees, dropping to a crouch as he did. 

He stopped just shy of the ridge. With the ship in sight, he motioned you over to him. You got as low as you could and stayed close by his side. It was a cloudy night but you could still just make out the clearing below. Now you understood why the Mandalorian insisted you wait until nightfall. There wasn’t an inch of cover between you and that ship and even at a sprint, Dagos would have more than enough time to take the two of you out.

“There’s an opening in the hull just under the wing there. Do you see it?” He pointed at the ship and you squinted, trying to see what he was describing. 

“Hmm. I think so. Is that from the crash?” You thought you could see the dark spot he was referring to. It wasn’t a terribly large opening, but certainly enough to keep the ship grounded, even within atmo. 

“Most likely. Probably grazed the mountain on entry, if the trail of fallen trees is anything to go by. That’s going to be our way in.” 

“Right so we just run for it then?” You asked, preparing to stand up. 

“No.” The Mandalorian put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “We still need to keep a low profile. It may be dark but we’re not invisible. We’ll walk, and try not to make a noise. Nothing that will draw attention. We move on my signal.” 

You went quiet, waiting for the go-ahead, until something caught your attention. Or rather, the lack of something. All the sounds that had filled the forest a moment ago were gone, the woods now suspended in heavy silence. 

“Mando,” you whispered, nudging his shoulder. You turned back to stare into the darkness behind you, a growing suspicion that something was wrong. 

“What is it?” He turned to where you were staring, noticing the sudden look of fear on your face. 

“Is it just me or... did it suddenly get really quiet around here?” 

The Mandalorian hadn’t noticed the forest’s sounds at all until you said something. Thinking for a moment, he realized you were right. The sudden silence meant that all the wildlife had noticed something that the two of you hadn’t. Something that they didn’t want to find them...

“Whatever you do, _don’t move._ ” You heeded his advice, your gaze flitting across the darkness as the Mandalorian’s hand drifted slowly to his blaster. 

Suddenly, without so much as a rustle to warn you, a massive creature lunged at you from the darkness. You rolled to the side just in time to avoid it, scrambling to your feet as you assessed the situation. From what you could see, it was a large feline creature of some sort, with pitch black fur to blend in at night. Wicked claws dug into the dirt where your head just was. It whipped around to snarl at you, it’s four eyes glowing white in the moonlight. 

The Mandalorian took aim at the creature just as it was too late. It pounced again, pinning you to the ground as you struggled to hold back its snapping jaws that were mere inches from your face. He couldn’t fire for fear of shooting you by accident. With few other options, he prepared to charge at the creature until you took matters into your own hands, quite literally. 

With your hands pressed flat against the underside of the creature’s jaw, you channeled your energy to your palms. They erupted in a pure white light and the creature let out a cry as its skin was badly singed. You took advantage of the opportunity, letting out a shout as you forced the creature off of you. It scrambled backwards, buying you time to get back on your feet before it recovered, far angrier than before. 

Before it had the chance to attack again, the Mandalorian grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the tree line. “Run!” he shouted, not needing to tell you twice. The two of you sprinted for the ship as fast as your legs would carry you, the creature hot on your heels. 

Just as the ship drew near, you saw a blaster bolt come from the upper deck, flying just over your head. The creature behind you shrieked, and you didn’t need to turn around to know the bolt had hit its mark. 

“He knows we’re here!” You yelled, though you knew full well the Mandalorian had also seen the blast. 

“Just keep moving!” Your only hope now was reaching the ship before Dagos could set his sights on you. The ship was so close, just a few more steps. The Mandalorian could hear you close behind him but he knew he couldn’t turn around. Even a second of hesitation could kill either of you. Especially since it was unlikely that his beskar would hold up at this range. He heard another shot go off just as he reached the opening in the hull. There was a split second where he feared the worst, afraid to turn around and find you gunned down at the last second. Luckily, he didn’t have to as you tumbled straight into him, sending both of you sprawling to the ground. 

Your breathing was heavy as you tried to regain your balance. You braced a hand on the Mandalorian’s chest plate, wincing at the feel of the cold metal as you struggled to push yourself up from on top of him. You didn’t even fully process what had happened until you looked down at him, his chest rising and falling with his own heavy breathing. It was the closest you’d gotten to him in your short time together. 

The Mandalorian just looked up at you, stunned for a moment as relief washed over him. Despite the disastrous turn of events, you’d both made it this far. For a moment there, he’d been genuinely afraid he’d lost you. He wasn’t sure why the thought bothered him as much as it did, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. 

“You can get off of me now.” 

With a quiet “Oh,” you untangled yourself from him and all but leaped to your feet. You silently thanked the darkness for covering the hint of color that forced its way to your cheeks. “Well that could’ve gone better,” you admitted.

“Could’ve gone worse.” Back on his feet, the Mandalorian took stock of your surroundings. You were in a hallway of some sort that led in two directions. Dim orange emergency lights lined the floor, drawing on what little power the ship had left. Since Dagos now knew you were here, he would no doubt move somewhere more fortified and wait until you came to him. There went your element of surprise. 

Opting to head in the direction of the back of the ship, the Mandalorian readied his blaster and took the lead. You followed close behind, keeping an eye out behind you with your own blaster in hand. He checked around each corner before moving forward, hyper-vigilant after years of combat experience. You watched his back for any sign that Dagos might be behind you. As far as either of you were aware, he was alone on the ship, but it wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong. 

The Mandalorian stopped, motioning for you to stay behind him. Up ahead you could see the hall open into a much larger room that had a bit more lighting. 

“We’re approaching the cargo hold I think. Perfect place for an ambush.” That’s all he had to say for you to get the message to be extra careful. You followed closer behind him, nearly brushing against his cape.

The cargo hold was significantly larger than that of the Mandalorian’s ship. It was split into two parts; an upper and a lower floor. The lower floor was where you stood. It was clearly the main storage area with far more floor space and plenty of old metal crates and cargo scattered around. It was no doubt tossed all over when the ship crashed. On either side of the room were steps leading to the upper level where a couple of smaller crates sat against the railing. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, listening intently for any sign of life. It was completely silent save for the oh-so faint hum of electricity. It was the silence that saved you, thankfully, when the slightest clatter sounded from the upper level. Immediately both of you ducked behind cover, one of you to the left and the other to the right. You _just_ missed the blaster bolt that flew over your heads. At the same time, the doorway you’d just come through sealed shut, blocking your only visible means of escape. 

A gruff voice rang out from the upper level, Dagos finally making his presence known. “It would seem I have guests! You two should be proud to have made it this far, you know.” 

“You’re outnumbered, Dagos.” The Mandalorian’s voice was level but firm. “You can’t keep hiding out here forever. Why don’t you make this easier for everyone and come quietly.” He was sure that one day asking nicely would work. Today was not that day.

You glanced over at the Mandalorian from your own hiding space, just able to see him from your position. He held a finger up to where his mouth would be, signaling for you to stay quiet. Then he reached for a piece of scrap metal lying on the ground nearby. Before you could gesture to ask what he was doing, he threw the object over his head into the center of the room. It was disintegrated by another blast before it had even hit the ground.

“Oh, so you’re more clever than you look!” Dagos taunted. “I would expect as much from a Mandalorian.” 

The Mandalorian knew that even he wasn’t fast enough to take aim at Dagos from out of cover before he’d be shot. If he only knew exactly where Dagos was at, he could try aiming blind. Running out of options, he decided to do just that. With only Dagos’ voice to pinpoint his location, the Mandalorian raised his blaster from behind cover and fired a single shot. He winced as another blast grazed his gauntlet at the same time. If he tried that again, he was afraid another shot would go straight through his hand. 

“You missed!” Dagos called mockingly. 

You knew you’d have no better luck yourself, and you weren’t fortunate enough to have any sort of armor covering your hands. Frantically you looked around you for anything you could use. You crawled around the corner of the crate you’d been hiding behind, careful to stay hidden behind other cargo that littered the room. 

“What the hell are you doing?” The Mandalorian whispered, just loud enough for you to hear from several feet away. 

“Looking for something we can use!” There was other debris scattered around the room which had seemingly spilled from the crates during the crash. You desperately hoped there would be something that would get you out of this situation. It was then that you came upon what appeared to be a bunch of miscellaneous parts scattered from a tipped over crate. Much of it was useless, but something among the garbage caught your eye. A pair of vaguely humanoid legs stuck out from the rubble. It was the body of a deactivated droid and by the looks of it, it was built for fighting. It was sturdy, built almost like a human soldier in every way except its head, which had two large bug-like eyes on the front. While you weren’t familiar with the specific model in any way, you thought you might still be able to work with it.

You grabbed a foot and pulled, but it was heavier than it looked. It would be easier if you could stand up, but doing so would give Dagos a clear shot at you. You heard the Mandalorian pipe up from his hiding spot. “Are you trying to kill us faster? The last thing we want right now is to deal with a droid too.” Something about the way he said the word ‘droid’ suggested he had conflicting feelings about them, but you didn’t have the time to ask about it. He tried to make it over to where you were but there was a gap in the cover that he wasn’t confident he could cross without getting shot. 

This time, you wrapped your arms firmly around the droid’s leg and put as much muscle into it as you could. You were leaning back with your full weight put into it and realized it must be caught on something. With one final tug, the droid nearly flew from the rubble, as did you. You lost your footing and fell flat on your back, barely an inch away from falling out of cover. You thanked your lucky stars and scrambled back to the fallen droid. The body was flipped over, giving you access to the back of its head. “Trust me! I think I know what I’m doing.”

“You _think_?” The Mandalorian would’ve had more to say but was interrupted by a blast flying just over his head, grazing the top of the crate he was behind.

“I don’t have all day, you know!” Dagos yelled. “And neither do the two of you.” Another blast went over your head this time. He was trying to draw you out one way or another.

You paid no mind to the Mandalorian or the assassin’s words. You were focused on the task at hand, which was no easy feat under the circumstances. You tried to pry away the panel protecting the inner workings of the droid’s brain but it wouldn’t budge. Resorting to plan B, you channeled your power to your fingertips, using the searing heat to melt the metal and allow you to pry your fingers underneath. You stopped the second that the panel was weak enough to remove for fear of damaging the delicate wiring inside. 

Memories of your years of study rose to the surface, making themselves useful. Back on your home planet, you’d been a droid technician of sorts. Your people didn’t call them droids per say, and they served far fewer purposes than the ones you’d come to know of recently, but the essentials should be the same. At least, you hoped so. 

All the Mandalorian could do was look on as you fiddled around with the wires and parts inside the inactive droid, using your power to detach and reattach parts when needed. He would admit he didn’t know much about the inner workings of droids but he was pretty sure they didn’t take too well to having their CPU’s pulled apart and haphazardly thrown back together. So he couldn’t begin to understand exactly what you were doing but he could take a pretty good guess as to what you were _trying_ to do. He only hoped you wouldn’t get yourself killed in the process.

Just before you were ready to put the last wire back in place, you turned back to the Mandalorian. “I don’t know exactly how this thing is going to react so the second it wakes up, you take cover. I should’ve basically set it to attack on sight so just make sure you’re not the first thing it sees, got it?””

“What exactly are you hoping will happen?” 

“In theory it’ll—“ you paused and lowered your voice, making absolute sure Dagos couldn’t hear you. “It will attack Dagos, buying us time to get up there. Once we’re close enough, that rifle won’t do much good.”

“That’s an insane plan.” The Mandalorian spoke as if he were used to insane plans rather than as if he were refusing. 

“Well unless you have a better one, I suggest we get moving because we don’t exactly have a lot of time here.” 

The Mandalorian paused but he knew you were out options. So rather than continue arguing, he simply nodded and retreated back away from you and the droid. 

The second you put the wire in place, lights came to life behind the droid’s eyes. You scrambled away before it had the chance to turn around and see you as it was no doubt ready to shoot first and ask questions later. You didn’t have to worry about drawing its attention, however, as the second it got to its feet, it was struck in the shoulder by a blaster bolt, nearly toppling it over agin.

Rather than respond, the droid immediately fired back at Dagos, a short-ranger blaster built into its arm. Seizing the opportunity, the Mandalorian leapt out of cover, sprinting towards the stairs leading to the upper platform. You followed suit, running for the stairs on the other side of the platform in an attempt to flank Dagos on either side. True to his reputation, Dagos’ second shot hit its mark, leaving a smoldering hole through the droid’s head, but he wasn’t fast enough. By the time he could react, the Mandalorian was already on him. Wasting no time, the Mandalorian landed a swift punch to his jaw, sending him careening backwards and colliding with the railing. The Mandalorian reached to grab for him but wasn’t fast enough. Dagos sneered, revealing his bloodied teeth before leaping over the railing and falling to the level below.

It was by no means a lethal fall, but damage was done. Dagos struggled to stand after the searing pain of impact. He only made it to one knee before finding himself face-to-face with not one but two blasters. You and the Mandalorian stared down at the broken man with weapons ready. His hood had fallen back to reveal an aging face contorted in anger. Though graying hair and crow’s feet made it clear that Dagos was well past his prime, you both knew better than to let your guards down now, regardless of how injured he may be.

With steady aim, the Mandalorian stayed just out of Dagos’ reach. “We can bring you in warm, or we can bring you in cold.” Though it was his signature line, the Mandalorian was only bluffing. The client had been very clear that target was not to be killed. Luckily, Dagos had no way of knowing that.

The old man spat blood at your feet as he began wheezing. After a moment, you realized that his wheezing was actually _laughing_. Ignoring the Mandalorian completely, he looked up at you, face etched with a sinister grin. “Do you think killing me will save you?” He sneered and began coughing. “Do you think they’ll stop coming after you?” Your eyes widened and you reflexively took a step back. He clearly knew exactly who you were, meaning there were likely more people out hunting you than you’d realized. 

As he glanced over at you, the Mandalorian failed to notice Dagos retrieve something from his pocket until it was too late. What he did notice, however, was that the device now in Dagos’ hand had begun beeping and a single red light was flashing. Without thinking, the Mandalorian grabbed your arm and dragged you behind the nearest crate, pulling the both of you to the ground. The last things you remembered were the sounds of Dagos’ hysterical laughter and the feeling of cold metal as the Mandalorian pulled you close to him. You didn’t even have time to process what was happening as the loudest sound you’d ever heard tore through your ears and the whole room came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberties with how guns and droids work in Star Wars, I know, shhhh. 
> 
> Anyway I think I may have finally figured out an ending for this fic (which we are nowhere near, don't worry) that I like personally but I'm noooot sure how people are gonna take it. It's not like a bad ending just... a bit jarring, maybe. Idk, if you guys gimme like general ideas of what you're hoping far I may take that into account
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for the support!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said chapters were gonna start being shorter? Yeah I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet. You're welcome.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, but you knew you couldn’t stay for much longer. Once the ringing in your ears finally began to let up, it was replaced by the constant roar of flames around you. Your surroundings were dark with only specks of the blaze visible from where you sat. You struggled to orient yourself, only trying to move once you’d wrapped your head around gravity once again. You wanted to stand, to move your legs, move _something_ , but you were stuck. It was only when you caught a glint of the flame reflecting off of chrome that the memory of the last few moments flashed through your head. 

The Mandalorian hadn’t hesitated to protect you, going as far as to shield you with his body. You had no doubt that he had saved your life. Now you just had to make sure you survived the next few minutes. 

“Mando!” You practically yelled to be heard over the roaring flames despite his close proximity. You were just able to make out the shape of his visor in the darkness. When he didn’t respond you nearly assumed the worst, but you forced yourself to push that thought back, telling yourself he was only unconscious. It was up to you to get the both of you out of there. 

Moving was difficult, as you were also stuck under the very rubble that he had shielded you from. You could see light, however, which meant there was hope. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you kicked away the debris at your feet. Though your throat was beginning to burn and your eyes stung, every inch it moved gave you the strength to kick again. When it finally dislodged, you couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. The opening you'd made was just big enough to crawl out of. 

You had to be extremely careful. If the rubble shifted any more as you made your escape, the Mandalorian could be crushed. After what felt like an hour of painstakingly maneuvering your way out of your veritable tomb, inch by inch, you were finally freed. Now you just had to get the Mandalorian out. 

You debated trying to drag him out the same way you’d gone, but you feared the debris would collapse in on him. Instead you chose to pull bits of rubble from the pile. Now that you were on the outside it didn’t seem too difficult, aside from the towering inferno that surrounded you. 

You put every ounce of strength into moving the last chunk of the hull that was currently keeping the Mandalorian pinned. You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes but the smoke was too heavy. The intense burning made your vision go blurry. The thought of leaving the Mandalorian behind and saving yourself briefly crossed your mind but you wouldn’t hear it. This man that you barely knew, not even his name, had saved your life and you’d be damned if you didn’t return the favor. 

With a shout, you finally toppled the last piece of debris, your legs nearly buckling completely as you knelt beside the unconscious Mandalorian. You flipped him onto his back, carefully watching for the rise and fall of his chest to prove he was still with you. It was faint, but the movement was there. You were relieved to say the least, but you’d be even more so once you got off this ship. 

You tucked your arms under his, attempting to drag him from behind as lifting wasn’t going to be an option. He was nearly heavier than the droid. You’d curse the armor he wore but it was probably the only reason he was still alive.

Breathing became more difficult by the second and the walls of flame felt like they were closing in. You could barely see, let alone find a way out of here. As another piece of debris fell from above, just narrowly missing you and the Mandalorian, you attempted to drag him in the direction that you thought you’d come in. It proved fruitless, however, as the way was blocked off. A shower of embers landed on your arm, burning through your jacket in an instant. You panicked as your skin burned and practically ripped the jacket from your body and tossined it aside. While you were immune to the damage caused by your own abilities, this was different. Your power was simply heat, albeit incredibly high, but this was real fire. You were no more resistant to it than anyone else. 

Your body was giving out, your arms barely able to keep a grip on the Mandalorian let alone move him. You let out a shout of frustration despite the pain that wracked your lungs. When you tried to move the Mandalorian again, your legs betrayed you and you collapsed. Desperation taking over and the adrenaline running out, you put your hands on the Mandalorian’ as shoulders, ignoring how much the metal burned. 

“Mando, you gotta get up! Please, wake up!” You shook him with what little energy your muscles had left. It was a feeble attempt but it was the best you could do. You shook him again though you knew it wouldn't help. You were terrified of the reality that was setting in. Just as you were about give up, the Mandalorian stirred. He lifted his head achingly, taking stock of the situation. Just the sight of him awake was enough to give you your second wind. 

“Mando, we gotta go! I tried but I can’t find a way out, I can barely see!” You had to shout to make your voice heard, especially with as hoarse as it was. You pulled yourself to your feet painfully slow, extending a hand to him. He took it gratefully as you attempted to pull him to his feet. The action nearly sent you toppling again, but you stood firm. The Mandalorian, on the other hand, began to buckle almost immediately. Without hesitation, you wrapped his arm around your shoulders and he accepted it. 

“Over there, there’s a exit.” He pointed towards the nearest wall, indicating something you couldn’t see. You assumed that his helmet helped him to see, protecting his eyes from the smoke. 

The two of you practically inched your way across the room, incapable of moving any faster. What remained of the ceiling threatened to come down at any moment, the structure groaning as it held on. Every step sent a new pain shooting up your legs but you forced yourself to keep moving. It was amazing that you were still standing, let alone supporting any of the Mandalorian’s weight. 

The open doorway finally came into your view as you got close. As far as you could tell, it was opposite the way you’d come in but that hardly mattered. Any way out of that room was good enough for you. You crossed the threshold just as a massive piece of the hull finally collapsed behind you, no longer able to support itself. 

The hallway you were in was wide and still mostly intact, though the flames were rapidly climbing the walls. The smaller space made the smoke all the more unbearable, forcing you to pull your shirt over your mouth in order to get any oxygen at all. The Mandalorian slipped his arm from your shoulders, insisting he could walk on his own. You didn’t argue even as you watched him limp ahead since you weren’t sure how much longer you could carry him anyway. 

The hall opened into a fairly spacious room, though not nearly as big as the cargo hold. The flames hadn’t quite reached here yet but there was definitely structural damage from the explosion. At the far end of the room was another upper level, though the steps were already dangerously close to collapse. You stumbled as the ship shook violently for a moment, a loud noise sounding from somewhere far back. You turned around to see the hall you’d come through now engulfed in flames, blocking any potential way back through. 

“We’re stuck,” the Mandalorian coughed, the sound harshly emphasized through his helmet. 

“What about those windows?” You asked, desperately searching the room. You’d come this far, you’d couldn’t stop yet, not while you were so close. There were large viewing windows on either side of the room. If you squinted your could just make out the shape of the trees in the darkness outside. 

“That’s transparisteel, we’d need another bomb just to get through there.” The Mandalorian leans with his back against the wall, his legs ready to slide out from under him at any second.

“Well do you have any better ideas?” You croaked, the last word not fully escaping your mouth. The Mandalorian understood nonetheless, though he didn’t respond. He merely looked back towards the burning hallway which was growing closer by the second. 

“What did you have in mind?” You could hear his breathing even from a distance away, ragged and shallow. He was definitely worse off than you right about now, even with the armor. 

You put your hands on the glass without a word, praying to who or whatever might be listening. You focused the last of your strength into your hands, a pure white blaze forming under your palms. You gritted your teeth, ignoring the ache in your jaw as you felt the glass begin to soften. 

The Mandalorian could only watch in awe, darkness swarming the edges of his vision as your light filled the center of it. He wanted to help but there was nothing he could do. He looked on as you hunched your shoulders, pressing forward and forcing the glass to warp under your touch. Your power grew like a dying star, one last flare before the light in your hands flickered out and you stumbled outside, a hole having formed that was just large enough to walk through. 

Your leg buckled as you took a step forward and you went down, your vision going black. When you came to a few seconds later, you were still on your feet. The Mandalorian’s arm was wrapped around you, supporting you. As you looked up at him, you noticed the thin black soot covering his helmet, hiding the light reflected off the still-burning ship. For a moment you forgot about how’d you both almost died. You just wanted to sleep, and here seemed like a plenty comfortable enough spot. A moment of lucidity was all it took to force yourself to stay conscious. Standing was another thing, however, as the Mandalorian slowly helped you to a sitting position on the ground, your knees giving up for real this time. 

“Are you okay?” he asked and you nodded, your voice refusing to work. “Good. I’ll be right back.”

For a moment you didn’t process what he said, just continuing to nod your head weakly. Then it sank in and your attention snapped back to him. “Wait, where are you going?” You forced the words out, feeling like there was another fire raging in your lungs and throat. 

“With Dagos dead, the bounty is forfeit. We won’t see a single a credit. But back there—“ he pointed back to where you’d just escaped from. “That was the cockpit just up those steps. If I can get up there and get to that computer terminal before it’s completely engulfed in flames, I can download everything Dagos had. Hopefully whatever’s on there will sell as well as he would’ve.” 

You thought you were hallucinating. Your head wasn’t working, you weren’t hearing things right. For a second you just stared at him like he was a crazy person until he actually began heading back to the ship. When you realized he was serious, you tried to run after him. “Now hang on a— agh!” You stumbled and fell back to your knees, the Mandalorian turning back to you at the sound. 

You were determined to stop him, working legs or not. “You must have a brain injury cause no one is that insane. After I just hauled your ass out of—“

“You’re not going to stop me and I can’t wait any longer. Just _stay here_.” That was the first time he’d given you a real command. Were your head clearer, it may have frightened or at least intimidated you. 

He disappeared back through the way you’d escaped and you just sat there on your knees, waiting. Even from some distance, you could still feel the waves of heat rippling off the body of the ship. The flames were continuing to spread, the entire thing nearly engulfed now. You supposed you should be thankful that the metal structure slowed the burning, but you couldn’t feel better while the Mandalorian was still inside. 

It had been too long. How long had it been? It didn’t matter, it was still too long. Every second you didn’t see him through that molten window you were imagining the worst. Another explosion suddenly tore through the upper level of the ship, sending debris hurtling though the air and you shielded your head. When you looked up, the ship was caving in on itself. Even the front where the Mandalorian was had begun to collapse. Internally, you screamed for your legs to move but they refused. Externally, you also screamed. “Mando!” Your broken voice rang out, though it was suppressed by the thunderous destruction in front of you. Just as it seemed too late, you saw a figure emerge from the smoke. The Mandalorian stumbled his way toward you, overtaken by a fit of coughing. 

He collapsed on the ground a few feet away, his head hitting the dirt with a concerning ‘thud.’ You scrambled over to him as fast as you could. It had only been maybe 15 minutes since the bomb went off and this was the third time you’d had to check if he was dying or not. You really didn’t want this to be a regular thing. 

You hoped to hear his breathing but there was nothing. Even the faint rise of his chest could not be seen. You pressed an ear to his chest plate, desperate to hear a heartbeat but once again, nothing. You assured yourself it was just muffled by the armor. 

“Mando...” Your plea was barely a whisper. There was only one thing left you could think to try. “You’re gonna be okay, dammit. You’re gonna go back and take care of that adorable kid, got it? We just— we just have to get this off. You just need to breath.” You thought if you took his helmet off maybe he could breath better. That’s all it was, that’s all he needed. Just air. He’d be fine. 

Your hands were shaking violently. You struggled to grasp the bottom of the helmet and your grip failed you. “Dammit! Dammit just— we just need to— to get this off!” However the helmet was attached, it was proving difficult to remove. You worried it had been damaged in the fire. You sighed in relief, however, when it finally started to slip free. That relief didn’t last long, however, when the Mandalorian’s hands flew to your wrists, halting your efforts with enough pressure to hurt. 

“Don’t!” He commanded, immediately breaking out coughing. His tone alarmed you more than anything. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it sounded like a threat. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t release his grip. 

“Okay, okay! Ow—!” You reeled back as he finally let go of your hands, realizing he was hurting you. “I was just trying to help. I thought... I didn’t know if you were dying or...” You trailed off, massaging your sore wrists. 

When the Mandalorian realized what you’d been trying to do, and what _he’d_ done, there was a sinking feeling in his chest. It was only a misunderstanding, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty. There was that split second where you'd looked _afraid_ of him and the image kept flashing through his mind. Plenty of people were afraid of him. It wasn't new. But seeing it from someone who trusted him was nearly unbearable and he couldn't figure out why.

“I— I’m sorry.” He held out a hand signaling you could relax. He knew you didn’t understand the gravity of what you'd almost done. “The helmet _has to_ stay on. You can’t see my face.” 

You relaxed a bit, more confused than anything. “What do you mean? You some kind of alien under there or something? Cause really, I don't care.” You hadn't meant to make a joke but there it was.

He actually had to laugh. Or rather, he exhaled sharply. That was about the closest he really got to laughing. But underneath the helmet, there was a grin on his face. With the adrenaline of another near-death experience worn off, he finally became aware of all the craziness that has just happened and here you were being funny. 

“It’s part of the Mandalorian Code. No living thing can see me without this helmet.” 

You stared a moment and he could’ve sworn he heard the gears in your head turning. Although that might be from the head trauma. “Pretty important rule, huh?” You asked. 

“Yeah.” He was expecting more follow-up, especially with how inquisitive you’d been earlier. It seemed both of you were too exhausted for much of a conversation. 

“We need to get back to the ship.” You groaned as you got to your feet, wanting nothing more than to lay here in the grass for the next 20 hours. 

“We can camp here tonight, head back at sunup— _agh_!” He winced and his hand shot to his side. He let out a hiss at the pain, though by now he was used to it. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though. 

You crossed your arms as you looked down at him. You wondered how a man could have so few self-preservation instincts. “You’re obviously pretty busted up. We have to get you back—“ 

“I’m _fine_ ,” he insisted, forcing himself to stand. 

You reached out before he could even react, his reflexes slowed by his injury. You pulled his hand away from his side and held it palm-up. Surprisingly, he didn’t resist. His glove was shiny and wet with fresh blood which you could now see staining his shirt. Though there was still tough leather covering his side, there was no steel. There was a gash up the left side of his waist and onto his back. He’d had it since the explosion, a piece of shrapnel cutting through the fabric like butter, but he’d done a good job of hiding it until now. 

“You’re not fine. We need to go back.” You spoke softly rather than trying to command him, knowing he might react better this way. 

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to react. He wanted to insist on staying but there was something in the look on your face that made him change his mind. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react in this situation, with someone else looking after his well being. It had stunned him on Nevarro and it stunned him now. So rather than argue again, he simply nodded in agreement.

You realized you were still holding his hand and quickly let go, turning your face away as he lead the way back. You tried to ignore the blood that was now staining your hand and the sense of unease it brought to mind. Rather than dwell on it, you decided to speed up enough to catch up with the Mandalorian. You spared a glance at his side where his glove was still soaking up blood. It didn’t look to be bleeding too heavily, especially since he was able to walk, but it definitely needed attention. 

“So...” You started, waiting to see if he reacted. He didn’t, unsurprisingly. Honestly you were just trying to find the words to say. After what you’d just been through, you weren’t sure if he was going to keep you around or not. You didn’t like the worries swarming around your brain. You needed a distraction from the silence. “Your people, your culture... they’re very important to you, aren’t they?” 

He would’ve just said yes but something forced him to hesitate. It was true, of course. His whole way of life revolved around the Mandalorian culture. It the most important thing to him, and to any Mandalorian. But when he thought about it, about the others, he thought about where it had gotten them. He thought about the countless dead on Nevarro, their bodies piled unceremoniously beneath the city streets, left behind by the Imperials. Maybe his answer was a little more complicated. 

“You could say that, yeah.” He only stared straight ahead. 

You nodded, very solemn all of a sudden. “That’s good, that’s good. I wish I’d appreciated mine more before... well before it was too late.” 

Neither of you spoke again until the Razor Crest was in view. You’d noticed the Mandalorian beginning to limp and you walked closer to him. The second he set foot on the ramp he careened forward, reaching out for something to catch himself with but nothing was there. Instead, you caught him just as his knees hit the ground, stopping him from completely hitting the deck. With your arm wrapped around his waist, you accidentally pressed on his wound and he suppressed a shout. He was gritting his teeth so hard he thought he might break one. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You released your hand, helping him to the nearest place to sit in the cargo hold as the ramp closed behind you. “Where’s a medkit? I’ll go get it.” 

“Around the corner.” The Mandalorian pointed weakly in the direction of the medkit and you took off running. He sat back against the wall and tried not to focus on the pain. He removed his gloves and tossed them aside carelessly. He also unbuckled his chest plate, letting the beskar clatter to the floor. It was absolutely covered in soot and no doubt blood. It would take hours to come clean. With a sigh, he carefully untucked his undershirt, lifting the hem just enough to reveal the wound. 

Though it certainly wasn’t pretty to look at, he’d had much worse. He wasn’t remotely worried about it healing. No, what he was worried about was the location. The gash had been caused by shrapnel from the bomb and therefore had actually hit his back first. This meant the majority of the damage was going to be difficult to reach. 

You came around the corner to see quite a sight. The Mandalorian, bloody and stripped of his armor with his shirt halfway pulled up. The sight of his skin caught you off guard and you froze a moment. It was the first time you’d seen anything that was under all that armor and it was somehow both surreal and relieving. It reassured you that underneath it all, the Mandalorian was just a man. He wasn’t really this mysterious figure, this unknown warrior. He was just another human being who you happened to have gotten stuck with. You didn't see that as a bad thing.

He looked up at you and you realized you’d been staring. He didn’t say anything, though, so you didn’t acknowledge it either. You just hurried over with the medkit and knelt beside him. 

“There should be a small white patch in there, hand it to me.” He held out one hand while the other was still holding onto his shirt. 

You dug through the medkit but there was no patch to be found. There really wasn’t much at all to be fair. You’d assume someone in his line of work would keep better medical supplies around. Especially since he was always alone. “There’s no patch in here.” You held the case up to assure him you were right. After he’d confirmed, he let out a sigh and leaned back, his helmet bumping the wall. 

“Shit, that’s right. I used the bacta patch a couple weeks ago.” 

“You only had one?” You asked, digging through the kit to try and identify the rest of its contents. There was a roll of plain bandage which you set aside to use. First the wound needed cleaned though, and you hoped he’d have something for that. 

“Bacta is expensive. Haven't exactly been made of money lately.” He closed his eyes for just a moment, letting himself relax, though of course you couldn’t see it. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but this needed dealt with. 

“Explains why you’d run back into a _burning_ ship just for something you're going to sell.” He just hummed in response as you picked up a small canister. It was some kind of aerosol, though it was unlabeled. “Hey, what’s this?” You held it up for him to see and he immediately perked up. 

“Bacta spray. Same stuff, just without the bandage. Forgot I had this too.” This was new to you. You hadn’t had anything like this back home. Would’ve helped a lot of people if you did. It made sense that the stuff was so expensive, it was basically a miracle medicine. 

When he’d finished applying the bacta spray, you began unraveling the bandage. The Mandalorian held out his hand and you raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should let me get this one.” 

“I think I’ll manage,” he retorted, snatching the bandage from your hand. You shook your head and crossed your arms, making yourself comfortable. You sat back and watched as he struggled, both arms behind his back uselessly as he failed to cover the wound. 

You resisted the urge to laugh, at risk of hurting his pride. “Do you want me to do it?” 

His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh, too tired to fight it. He didn’t say anything but just handed the roll of bandage over to you. He raised his shirt again and you moved closer, gently taking the bandage from him. He turned so his back was to you and you realized the injury was worse than he’d made it look. He’d been acting like it wasn’t a big deal but it was definitely going to leave a nasty scar. It wouldn’t be his only one either, you noticed. His back alone was dotted with scars of all sizes, each with their own story. You imagined intense battles taking place for each and every one of them as you slowly wrapped the bandage around his torso. Little did you know, he couldn’t remember where most of them even came from. His battles were rarely memorable and hardly glorious. Scars were just another part of the job. 

You tried not to focus on it too much when you’re hands would brush against his skin and he would tense up for just a moment or how comfortable you were in the warmth that he radiated. You pretended not to notice his heartbeat had sped up because yours had done the same. You told yourself it was just the exhaustion talking. You were pretty sure it wasn’t the first time you’d told yourself that. 

With the wound neatly bandaged and the bleeding stopped, you took a seat back on the floor in front of him and leaned back against a crate.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyelids suddenly very heavy. 

“What for?” He makes no move to get up from his spot. 

“For saving me, idiot.” The corner of your lip ticked up just briefly. “You literally shielded me with your body. I kind of owe you for that.”

The Mandalorian looked away and you worried you’d said something wrong. Luckily, he assuaged your fears. “You got us out of that ship. I’d say we’re even.” 

You gave a small “Hmph,” not really meaning anything by it and closed your eyes. You were just going to rest a moment, that was all. Just needed to shut your eyes for a few minutes and then you’d get up. 

Less than a minute later and you were out cold. The Mandalorian sighed and picked up the medkit, already noticing less pain when he stood up. In a matter of hours he’d be good as new. He began to walk away so he could get some sleep of his own but he stopped to look back at you. You didn’t exactly look comfortable sitting on the floor of the cargo hold but what was he supposed to do? Wake you up just as you’d fallen asleep? You looked peaceful as you were. He doubted he could pick you up without waking you either, and he wasn’t sure if that was crossing some kind of line. What like exactly, he wasn’t sure. He also felt bad you’d lost your jacket. The whole trek back he could hear your teeth chattering. 

With no good ideas but not content to just leave you be, he did the only other thing he could think of. Pulling his cape loose from his neck, he made his way back to you, careful to be quiet. As gently as he could, he draped the heavy fabric behind you and over your shoulders. He even wrapped it around to cover your arms for good measure. He knew you got cold easily. Looking up, he saw the first rays of morning sunlight slip through the cargo hold’s few meager windows.

As he headed toward his own bunk, he slipped his hand into his pocket, retrieving a small chip. Specifically, the data chip he’d retrieved from Dagos’ ship. He didn’t get the chance to go through it, but he knew there was a lot hiding inside the little piece of metal. Dagos had known who you were, which meant he might have more information. Luckily, the Mandalorian knew just the person who would be happy to look into it for him, and even give him a fair share of credits for the trouble. He spun the chip between his fingers a few times before pocketing it again. All of that could wait until later, though. 

Right now he needed a long nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who woulda thought that a scene could be both sweet AND awkward. Plus who doesn’t love a good ‘tending to each other’s wounds’ trope


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a few weeks but my classes keep me insanely busy so sorry about that :/ At least this chapter is fairly long, though it was supposed to be a lot longer. I cut it short cause I reached like 5k words and realized I had planned on waaaaay too much stuff for one chapter. Although this chapter is mainly exposition, but hopefully you still enjoy it!

“Nice work, Mando. If what you say is true, I’ve got a lot of old colleagues that will happily pay you for this information, with just a small service fee set aside for myself of course.” The voice coming through the comms laughed heartily and the Mandalorian resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not that it would matter. “Ah come on Mando, where’s your sense of humor?” 

“Start digging through that data for me and maybe you’ll find it.” The Mandalorian sat back in the pilot’s seat, unamused yet unsurprised by his contact’s sense of professionalism, or lack thereof. 

“Fine fine,” the voice sighed, his jovial attitude wasted on the Mandalorian. “Give me a couple days and I’ll see what I can find, then you’ll get your credits. I’ll send a message to you.” With no further farewells necessary, the Mandalorian hung up the call. He held up the data chip in his hand, twirling it absentmindedly as he thought. There was no doubt a hoard of Imperial data was packed into the tiny thing, but there was only one thing he particularly cared about. 

It had taken him all night to figure out whether this was a good idea or not, but he needed more answers than you were giving him. From what you’d shown him so far, you could indeed be trusted but he needed to be absolutely sure. So, since Dagos had clearly known who you were, there was a good chance there’d be information about you somewhere on that chip. Luckily, the Mandalorian had a contact who just so happened to be an ex-Alliance technician. Not only did he know just who to pawn the data off to, but he could search it himself and confirm your story was true. 

A creeping sense of guilt lingered in the back of the Mandalorian’s mind but he told himself it was for nothing. Yes, he’d told his contact your story, how you were being hunted by the empire, your powers, all of that. But he was certain it was in everyone’s best interest. If you _were_ in fact being hunted, a connection to the Alliance, or rather the New Republic as they were now known, could be your safest option. Still, no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the idea of going behind your back like this made him uneasy. He knew what it was like to have people stab you in the back, and it wasn’t fun. That made it all the more important that you not find out about this. 

He turned to his right habitually to make some kind of comment to the child, but the little one was nowhere to be seen despite having been in his seat some minutes ago. Double-checking the time, he figured you’d gotten enough rest as well so he could go wake you up while he looked for the kid. 

-

The soreness in your muscles hit you before you’d even fully opened your eyes. The ground beneath you was cold and unfamiliar, your mind grasping to remember where exactly you were as you blinked away the remnants of sleep blurring your vision. The first thing to grace your sight was that little green child staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Um, hello,” you said, more question than greeting. A shiver ran through you and you pulled the blanket around your shoulders tighter. Although, when had you gotten a blanket? Upon closer inspection, the heavy fabric didn’t appear to be a blanket at all. It’s familiarity eluded you for a moment before you recognized it as the Mandalorian’s cape. You glanced around the room but found no trace of the garment’s owner. It was just you and the child. 

The little guy stood at your feet silently. “Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure ‘dad’ was quite the correct term, but you didn’t know what else to say. The child took another step closer, practically stepping on your feet before reaching out to grab the edge of the cape. “Oh is this what you want?” You couldn’t help but chuckle as the child clutched at the fabric with as much grip as his tiny hands could muster. “I’m not gonna give it to you, you have your own coat!” 

You didn’t know why you were arguing with a toddler but he babbled back at you as if he had something to say. He also seemed to smile when he looked at you, which you took as a good sign. “How about we share, hm? Does that sound fair to you?” You raised one arm to make room for the child to sit next to you under the warmth of the cape. Rather than that, however, he opted to climb up onto your lap. You were dumbfounded by the child’s immediate trust in you and you certainly couldn’t bring yourself to move him as he got comfortable, holding onto the cape again as if it were a sort of security blanket.

He settled and you moved your arms to swaddle him carefully in the cape. You didn’t dare pick him up for fear of upsetting or injuring him. You didn’t really have experience with children and you were always nervous about how fragile they were. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to have any intention of falling asleep. He just looked up at you and continued his occasional gurgle or coo. “You’re a strange little one, you know that.” You smiled at him and he mimicked you, the sight of his burgeoning baby teeth melting your heart. 

You sighed and resigned yourself to staying seated for some time, leaning your head back against the crate. You recalled the events of the previous night, or morning rather, and found your thoughts drifting back to the Mandalorian. His armor was gone from where he’d dropped it on the floor and the medkit was nowhere to be seen which meant he’d picked everything up sometime after you fell asleep. Your mind kept coming back to the cape which you were still clutching tightly. The Mandalorian had to have left it on you of course, but you were curious as to why. He didn’t seem like an especially softhearted type, but just maybe you were wrong. The happy infant in your lap was evidence, of course. Perhaps the steely facade was just that; a facade. Or maybe you were reading too much into it. 

Another shiver wracked your body even under the thick fabric, pulling you from your speculation. Even with what appeared to be afternoon sunlight seeping into the room, it was still cold. Although part of that could just be from sitting on a metal floor for who knows how long. 

You looked down at the child still sitting contently on your lap. “What do you think little guy? Wanna go find your dad?” You took his gibberish murmur as confirmation and carefully positioned your arms to hold him firmly while still hanging onto the cape. You also had him all but wrapped in the thing and he looked like he couldn’t be happier. You got to your feet carefully, afraid that at any second the kid would slip from your grasp somehow. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you were being overly gentle with the little one. He was a child, not an egg. But still, better safe than sorry. 

You wandered the ship a bit, not really sure where anything was nor where the Mandalorian would be. You figured he might be still be sleeping. He needed the rest more than you did, that’s for sure. You passed through what could very loosely be described as a kitchen, though it was a bit sad to look at. The room was incredibly small, certainly not designed with guests in mind which was no surprise. It also had the absolute bare essentials of cookware. Still, there was a cold storage as well as a couple of cupboards so there was room for a fair amount of food to be stored. Your stomach rumbled at the thought and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything since before you’d even gotten on this ship. You chose to ignore it and keep moving, figuring it rude to just start digging around for food like some kind of rodent. 

The ship wasn’t especially big, nor were the rooms inside. In fact, the corridors between rooms were almost narrow enough to make you claustrophobic. Luckily you’d had your fair share of small spaces. You peeked your head inside the next room you passed but it was also uninhabited. All that was inside was a bunk that folded out from the wall along with a small bedside table. From the utilitarian design, it was safe to assume this was where the Mandalorian slept. Although, you wondered how he went about doing that. The image of him asleep on the tiny bunk in full armor made you chuckle. After all, he said he never took the helmet off. 

Well, actually, what he’d said was that no one can see him without the helmet. That raised more questions in your mind. What about the child, since they were technically family? What if he was injured? The idea that you would probably never see his face was strange to say the least. You couldn’t imagine what he looked like but boy did you try. You were picturing some sort of disheveled warrior, hair unkempt and with a stern face. That wouldn’t really work though. You’d have to keep your hair tidy if you were going to wear a helmet all the time. And there was just something about him that made it seem like he’d have a softer gaze, less angry than you’d have imagined when you first met him. Maybe it was the way you’d seen him look at the kid. Just from his body language, you could tell that there was a lot of tension in his body that dispersed at least a little when he was with the child. 

As if on cue, the little one let out a faint squeak as if to tell you to keep going. You turned away from the bunk and found yourself at a ladder with a hatch at the top. You situated the child carefully in one arm and made your way up, looking around the room before fully emerging through the hatch. 

The upper level of the ship was equally cramped as the lower level. You knew from the start this ship wasn’t exactly a luxury cruise liner but still. You were pretty sure the cockpit was close by. You’d think in a ship this size it would be easy to remember where stuff was after walking though it just once but you’d be wrong. Besides, you hadn’t been paying that much attention to the actual ship before. You’d been more focused on the Mandalorian who may or may not have been about to toss you out. 

You rounded a corner only to run smack dab into a solid wall of steel. Or rather, a solid Mandalorian. 

“Sorry!” You jumped back and held tighter to the child, nearly startled into dropping the poor thing. 

There was something oddly charming about the sight of you to the Mandalorian; the way you cradled the child, his cape still draped over your shoulders, even the way your hair was disheveled from sleep. It caught him off guard enough that he’d actually forgotten what he was about to say. 

“The kid woke me up,” you chuckled, attempting to smooth down your unruly hair with your free hand. “And I got kinda lost trying to find you.”

“I was just going to come wake you up anyway. It’s about time we take off.” He gestured back to the cockpit and you nodded. The three of you headed inside and you continued to hold onto the child.

“So where are we headed?” You made yourself comfortable in the seat to to his left, suddenly remembering how sore you were now that you were sitting on something with actual cushioning instead of the hard floor. It almost made you want to fall asleep again. 

The Mandalorian began flipping switches and the ship rumbled to life. “We need to pick up supplies. There’s a place on Takodana that will have everything we need. The buyer I got for the data chip is also there. He’s going to meet us in a couple days.” He was careful to leave out the part about giving away your secrets to a veritable stranger. “We need fuel, rations, just about everything else. Oh, and while we’re there, you’ll probably want new clothes.”

You suddenly became hyper-aware of the lingering scent of ash clinging to your clothes, not to mention the soot. You also remembered your lost jacket, a pang of loss deep in your chest. While the jacket itself had hardly been special, it was one of the only things that remained of your home. “I don’t have any money,” you said, shaking the thoughts from your head. 

“Don’t worry. I should have enough credits left to get what we need.” The Mandalorian barely registered his actions as the ship took to the air, the takeoff sequence committed to muscle memory by now. 

“I can’t ask you to spend your money on me.” The child in your lap cooed happily as the ship sped out of the atmosphere. The ride was more than a little bumpy, but you didn't mind. It wasn’t so bad now that you weren’t holed up in a storage compartment.

“You helped me get that chip, didn’t you? By all rights, half the money is yours. We wouldn’t even be here right now if you hadn’t gotten us out of that ship.” He said it so nonchalantly, as if you _weren’t_ the one responsible for losing the bounty and nearly getting both of you killed in the first place. You were stunned he was even letting you stay on the ship, let alone _paying_ you. So stunned, in fact, you couldn’t even think of an argument. “Besides,” he continued, “you’re part of my crew now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Do a stowaway and a baby really count as a crew?” As if on cue, the child giggled as well, though he was no doubt just mimicking you. 

The Mandalorian tensed slightly, your reaction catching him off guard. “You... you know what I mean.” He stuttered, at least a little unsure as to why he’d done so. “Hang on.” He collected his thoughts as he made the jump to hyperspace, the ship lurching forcefully. You were glad you were sitting down this time. 

After a moment, you decided to carry the child over to his designated seat. He giggled as you set him down. He was always such a happy little thing. You wondered if he even comprehended a fraction of the danger in his life. You let out a contented sigh as you watched the child play with a small silver ball that had been left in his seat. 

With the ship safely on autopilot, the Mandalorian subtly turned to look at you. He found himself studying you while you were engrossed with the child. He took note of the way you stood, weight on one leg and your arms crossed. Your head tilted ever so slightly to the side and the softest hint of a smile shone on your face. You were still wearing his cape. You looked more relaxed in his presence than anyone had in a very long time. 

For once, the Mandalorian didn’t look away when you met his gaze. “Oh,” you straightened abruptly. “I suppose you might want this back.” You slipped the Mandalorian’s cape from your shoulders, resisting the urge to shudder at the lack of heat. He accepted it wordlessly, staring at the garment in his hands briefly before returning it to its rightful place on his shoulders. 

You stood frozen a moment, searching for your next words. “I, uh... Thank you, I mean.” 

“Don’t mention it,” he said, fastening the cloak’s buckle. 

“For saving me, I mean. Thank you for saving me.” Your jaw tightened as you anxiously awaited a response. For someone with such fast reflexes, the Mandalorian sure was slow to respond sometimes. Perhaps he had learned to think before he spoke, a trick you would do well to remember now and then. When he chose merely to nod before turning back to the console, you decided that wasn’t enough. “Why _did_ you save me? From that bomb?”

When the Mandalorian faced you again, your smile had disappeared completely, all the tension returned to your body. He didn’t know what to say, no matter how much he wracked his brain. So he lied. 

“It was just a reflex.” He desperately hoped this lying thing wasn’t becoming a habit. 

Naturally, you weren’t satisfied by that answer. “You do a lot of rescuing people, then?” It wasn’t that you thought he was lying necessarily, just that you could tell there was more hiding beneath that shiny surface of his. 

“Well... no. Not really. Usually the opposite, actually.” 

“Right. I’d almost forgot you’re a bounty hunter.” Somehow, that was true. Amongst the events of the last day or so, you’d just about forgotten that this was technically his job. There was just something about him that was different than the other bounty hunters you’d run into, not that there had been a lot of those. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. The bounty, I mean. If I hadn’t froze up, we probably could’ve brought him in—“

The Mandalorian stood up, effectively silencing you. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

You heard what he was saying but you didn’t _hear_ it. As if the words were going in one ear and out the other. “I— I didn’t think he would recognize me. And I’m wondering... how many more are out there, probably looking for me?” Your voice wavered almost imperceptibly, but the Mandalorian was nothing if not observant. 

“That’s why you’re here, alright? With Dagos dead, there’s no way they can know you’re with me.” He was trying to ease your nerves, but he wasn’t even sure he completely believed it himself. Imps had a bad habit of knowing information they weren’t supposed to. He’d had plenty of experience with that before. 

You rubbed your hands over your arms in order to relieve your growing anxiety as much as keep you warm. You kind of wished you hadn’t given back the cape. “I’d say I’m not terrified, Mando, but it wouldn’t be true. They _can’t_ catch me, not again.” 

He felt his heart sink when you said ‘again.’ Memories surfaced of all the horrible things he’d seen the Imperials do to people in their pursuit of power. “I think it’s about time you tell me the full story.” His voice was low, though he sounded concerned rather than commanding. 

You regretted saying anything. Another case of speaking before thinking. But it was too late now. Besides, you owed it to the man that had saved your life to at least stop hiding everything. You took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair with a loud sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the undoubtedly long explanation ahead. You leaned forward, a hand on your temple as you thought of where to possibly begin. 

“Hang on,” the Mandalorian stopped you before you could even begin. “When was the last time you ate something?” 

“What?” You blinked in confusion before fully processing what he was saying. “Oh, uh, I don’t—“

“Definitely before you got on my ship, I can tell. Your hands are shaking.” You hadn’t even noticed to be honest. You’d grown used to the effects hunger had on your body. Though you now realized the true extent of how hungry you were. With the amount of energy you’d exerted the day before, not even counting the toll that using your powers had taken, it was a wonder your stomach hadn’t started eating itself. 

The Mandalorian swiftly made his way out of the cockpit, motioning for you to follow. You made your way back the way you’d come in until you returned to the kitchen you’d passed through earlier. He simply gestured to a small table that was built into the corner of the room before turning towards a cupboard. You took a seat and watched him silently as he made his way back towards you, something small and silver in his hand. 

“Here. It’s not exactly gourmet but you’ll at least feel better.” He held out a small bar wrapped in foil. You took it hesitantly, turning it over in your hands without opening it. “It’s just a nutrient bar. Standard rations. It’s not going to hurt you.” 

You set the bar down on the table and looked up at him, your mind running a million miles a parsec. “Why are you being nice to me? Why am I even still here? I almost got us killed! You should’ve ditched me on that planet!” Your confusion had turned to frustration and it was making itself known.

The Mandalorian took a seat opposite you, the only other chair in the room. “We almost got killed because that’s part of the job. I told you, none of that was your fault. I was serious when I said you’re a part of my crew now. Unless... you want to leave?” He said it as if he was asking himself as much as he was asking you. He didn’t want you to leave, that much he knew. You’d proved yourself plenty helpful. But he wasn’t going to hold you captive. The real question was different; did he want you to stay?

This time it finally stuck. Despite what you thought, the Mandalorian really didn’t blame you for anything, even if you believed he should. “I want to stay,” you answered firmly and he sat back, crossing his arms. You wondered if he was smiling under that helmet. You kind of hoped so. 

“Then eat. And then you’ve got some explaining to do.” He settled in for a long story, making himself comfortable. At least, as comfortable as he could while sitting on a hard chair and still wearing full beskar. Sometimes he missed the days when he was all alone on the ship. When he could walk around with the helmet or the armor, no child or you to worry about. He wouldn’t admit it, but he also found some comfort in having other people around, even if one was an infant. Space was no place to be alone.

With some of the awkwardness out of the way, you opened the nutrient bar and cautiously took a bite. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but It tasted almost overwhelmingly bland. Still, it could’ve been worse. “It’s a bit of a long story.” You spoke between bites.

“We’ve got roughly twelve hours before we reach Takodana. Why don’t you start with how you’re from a planet that hasn’t supported life since before I can remember.”

You crinkled the wrapper in your hand, your rising anxiety causing you to fidget as you spoke. “I was born on Vollalei a long, long time ago. Before it was... destroyed.” You winced as the word left your mouth, still not having come to terms with the fact. “My people had only just started figuring out space travel. Actually, it was because other planets made contact with us first. But I wasn’t a part of any of that.”

The Mandalorian still had a million questions, so he took your pause as a chance to interject. “So did everyone on your planet have powers like yours?” 

“No. It was an extremely rare phenomenon that only started showing up maybe two generations before me. Me and others with these abilities were considered ‘special’ I guess. They called it a mutation. No clue what was causing it. They were researching it but I guess they never got the chance to find out.” You felt like you were sifting through a box of memories, having to dig through all of them just for the information you were looking for. You hated thinking about home because it just made you sad. Sad and angry because you knew you could never go back. 

You let out a deep breath before your emotions could get the better of you. “We were on the brink of war on a global scale. Weapons capable of wiping out continents on either side. It’s almost funny when you think about it. Just when we’d learned about life on other planets we decide to destroy the ones on ours.” You chuckled darkly, though the scenario was far from funny. “Anyway. Just before all hell broke loose, it was decided that anyone with this mutation would be deemed an ‘important asset.’ At first they just told us we wouldn’t be allowed to fight, and I was fine with that. But next thing I know, they’re rounding us up and spouting a bunch of nonsense about ‘hyper-sleep’ and ‘the future of our people’ so uh... I’m sure you can guess what happened after that.” 

The Mandalorian understood all too well. If there was one thing he was used to, it was war. As crazy as your story sounded, it also made sense somehow. “How long were you under?” 

You crumpled up the wrapper that was still in your hand, clenching your fist around it until your knuckles paled. “I don’t know exactly. I woke up at gunpoint inside some kind of lab. From what I could tell, I’m the only one that survived hyper sleep. Looking back, I now know that those people were obviously this Empire everyone keeps talking about. I was there for a few weeks probably. Day after day they just kept running tests on me.” 

The Mandalorian noticed you shudder and his grip tightened reflexively. You didn’t elaborate on the tests but you didn’t have to. He knew what sort of things the Empire did to people they thought they could use. He got up and walked over to the sink as you continued. 

“I never got them to tell me anything but I did overhear some stuff. It sounded like I’d been asleep just short of a century.” You still couldn’t wrap your head around that part. The idea that a lifetime had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye was too much. Sometimes you wondered if you were still asleep and this was all just a dream. You wouldn’t be so lucky. 

The Mandalorian returned with another nutrient bar and a glass of water and you took them gratefully. “A century? Are you sure?” 

You savored the water, though really it wasn’t good. It had a metallic taste to it that you figured was best not to think about. Still, you stared at that glass like it was the most interesting thing in the galaxy, avoiding eye contact with the Mandalorian all the while.

“I don’t know, maybe more? Like I said, they didn’t exactly talk to me.” Your voice wavered and you wanted nothing more than to leave but you weren’t done talking. If you were letting everything out now then you were spilling _everything_. No more secrets. They’d only cause problems later. 

“All I know is there was an attack on the lab one day. The Alliance, I guess. I didn’t stick around to find out. I took the first chance to get out of there that I could get. You know the rest.” 

The Mandalorian didn’t know what to say. He knew what it was like to be ripped from your home. At least he’d had someone to take him in. You been fending for yourself. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think of. 

“Don’t.” Your voice was stern, much more so than it had been a moment ago. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear pity from people who can’t do anything about it. You know, I didn’t ask to be put in hyper-sleep. I wasn’t given a choice. And now I get to deal with the aftermath, _alone_. So I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’ unless it’s from one of the bastards that put me in that pod.” 

The Mandalorian only nodded. He understood what you meant. When he was younger, shortly after he’d been taken in by the other Mandalorians, he’d learned quickly that there was no point in pity. It was important to remember his past, but not to let it consume him. That was the Way. 

You sighed and slumped over the table, unable to bring yourself to stay angry for long, especially not at the Mandalorian. And who better to cheer you up than the child who just so happened to appear in the doorway at that very moment. He cooed in a questioning manner and tilted his head to the side, watching the two of you curiously. 

“I need to feed him. You’re welcome to help if you want.” The Mandalorian made his way over to the child who immediately held his arms up in the universal infant sign for ‘pick me up.’ The Mandalorian obliged, nestling the child in the crook of one arm as he went to retrieve something from the cupboards. 

“You need help to feed a baby?” You teased, bringing your elbows to the table and resting your chin on one hand. 

“You won’t be laughing when see what he does.” The Mandalorian’s voice was stone-cold serious. Well, even more than usual. You were suddenly just a little bit nervous, unable to imagine just how difficult it could be. 

Five minutes later, you realized exactly what he had meant. To say the child was a fussy eater would be the understatement of the century. This was also the first time you’d seen the little one use his powers and if this was even a fraction of what he could do at this age, you feared to imagine what he’d be able to do as an adult. 

“Is this normal?” You ducked as another piece of a nutrient bar went flying over your head. The Mandalorian has spent the last few minutes trying to feed the child bite-size pieces but to no avail. No matter how much he tried, however soft he made his voice, however much he pleaded, the child refused. He would turn away in disgust and use his powers to send the offending food flying across the room. 

“He hates this stuff but there’s no other food and he has to eat. It’s been too long since he last ate to begin with.” He turned back the child, desperately pleading for him to cooperate. The sight was actually immensely funny when you thought about it. The Mandalorian, a fierce, battle-hardened warrior, was knelt in front of the tiny child, practically begging. The ‘thunk’ of his helmet hitting the table as he slumped over in defeat forced you to cover your mouth to keep from laughing. 

“Here, why I don’t I try?” You held out your hand and the Mandalorian handed over the remaining nutrient bar, not even bothering to look up. You knelt in front of the child, who looked as innocent as ever. “Hey, kiddo. What do you think, hm?” You held up the piece of food just as the Mandalorian had done and once again, the child turned away. Before he could force it out of your hand, however, you kept talking to him. “I know you don’t like it, okay? I get it, the food around here isn’t awesome.” You heard a quiet scoff from the Mandalorian who at this point had moved to stand behind you, fully anticipating your efforts to end in more catastrophic failure.

You rolled your eyes but remained face-to-face with the child. “But it’s good for you. Trust me, there’s much worse food out there. This is really not that bad. Here, see?” You broke another piece off the bar for yourself, and the child watched you curiously. “If I can eat it, so can you. So how about you give your dad a break, hm? I think he’s earned it.” You reached out slowly and gently grasped his tiny, clawed hand. You ignored how strange it was, just another reminder that this was an _alien_ child. Setting the food in his hand, you leaned back in hopes that he would eat on his own. 

For a minute, all he did was look back and forth between you and the food until slowly, painstakingly, the child finally ate the singular bite, no fussing whatsoever. You turned to face the Mandalorian, a huge smile across your face at the victory. You couldn’t see it, but his eyes were wide in shock. The last thing he expected was for you to not only get the child to eat, but to do so in a single try. There was something about the scene before him that made him feel… relaxed, almost. The kid really did like you. He couldn’t help but feel relieved at the idea of having someone else around to help with childcare. He could handle gunfights and criminals any day, but taking care of a child was so far out of his realm of expertise that it may as well be another galaxy. Besides, there was something about the way your face lit up when you’d succeeded that he couldn’t help but smile too. Thankfully, you couldn’t see him.

You continued handing bits of food to the child and one after another he ate them, not even a single gurgle of complaint. “I can probably handle him from here. If you want, I can keep an eye on him until we get to Takodana.” 

The Mandalorian was certain by now that it would be safe to leave you with the child, at least while you’re on the ship. He needed a break anyway. He also hadn’t eaten anything in awhile and for that he would have to shut himself in his bunk, for obvious reasons. He accepted your offer and you returned your attention to the child. He was nothing if not interesting, and you were beginning to see why the Mandalorian had gone to such lengths to protect him. There was still some time before you’d reach Takodana and you were perfectly content to spend it with the little one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did the reader's backstory end up how you though it would?
> 
> Also, shoutout to Perla, my #1 supporter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nearly 8k words (which I TOTALLY meant to do haha) so consider it your 'sorry I took so long to update that you thought I was dead' apology present

Takodana was nicer than you’d anticipated. The first thing you’d noticed upon approach was the seemingly endless sea of green covering its surface. Lush forests stretched as far as the eye could see. It continued to delight once you’d departed from the ship as well. The air was pleasantly warm and humid, a far reach from the blistering desert planet you’d been stranded on recently.

The port itself wasn’t particularly spectacular but it was definitely busy. You hadn’t been anywhere this crowded since Vollalei. You lost count of all the different alien species you passed. It was truly mind-blowing how big the galaxy really was to be able to house so many unique species. You caught yourself wishing that the rest of your people were still around to see it, but you pushed the thought to the back of your mind. Your mood had improved drastically since your talk with the Mandalorian and you weren’t going to let your bad memories ruin it. 

“Keep close. Takodana is something of a haven for all sorts of troublemakers. Smugglers, fugitives, that sort of thing. I’ve had bounties out here on multiple occasions.” The Mandalorian walked the crowded streets with ease, any passersby swiftly moving out of the way as soon as they spotted him. Many would pass with their heads turned away, desperate to avoid the Mandalorian’s gaze. You knew he was intimidating on his own, but this was a whole other level. There was hardly a soul in sight that didn’t have some visible reaction to his presence, be it fear or scorn. You couldn’t imagine what kind of history his people must have to garner such a widespread reputation. You wondered what it must be like, carrying that reputation with you everywhere you go. No wonder he seemed like such a loner. 

You followed close behind, avoiding the stares that continued to be thrown your way. In your arms you held the child, though he was wrapped snugly in a blanket, his wide ears covered. The Mandalorian has said that there was too high of a chance someone would recognize him in a place like this. You had tried leaving him on the ship but the kid was having none of it. He’d been cooped up too long and was ready to go outside. You offered to carry him, figuring he would kind of ruin the Mandalorian’s whole ‘intimidate people into giving you better prices’ method of bartering. He’d said you needed supplies, after all. 

You’d found your way to the center of a crowded square lined with vendors peddling more goods than you could imagine. Literally, you couldn’t even recognize some of the things they were selling. The Mandalorian looked around a moment before turning to you. “I need to talk to someone inside, do some negotiating,” he gestured at a crumbling and altogether unwelcoming stone building nearby. “Think you’ll be okay waiting outside?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” You didn’t want to admit that you just didn’t want to go in that building. Looking around the square again, a few stands actually caught your attention. “Actually, if it’s alright, I can pick up some of the other things we need from around here while you’re busy. And then meet back here afterwards.” 

There was a noticeable hesitation before the Mandalorian responded, “I don’t know if that’s a great idea. This place isn’t exactly the safest if you aren’t careful.”

You adjusted the child in your arms, ignoring his coo of annoyance. “I think I can handle it. I survived on my own just fine before you, you know.” 

“Alright, alright, just... just keep an eye out okay? And try not to draw a lot of attention, for both of your sakes.” He pulled back the blanket from the child’s face briefly, lightly running a gloved finger across the little one’s ear. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, you thought. 

“I promise we’ll be fine.” The Mandalorian nodded in response and turned away toward the building. You waited until he was out of your sight before crossing the square, heading towards the stand that had first caught your attention. 

A human woman stood alone behind the small stand, busily arguing with another prospective customer over the price of what appeared to be some kind of machine parts. She was older, but by no means feeble. She was quite a sturdy woman, evident both in her appearance and her demeanor. Had you not become desensitized to a certain level of gruffness in the people of this galaxy, you’d even be intimidated by her. 

She didn’t seem to sell any one thing in particular. She had goods scattered about ranging from weapons and parts to local trinkets and gifts. What drew your attention, however, were the clothes. After all, yours still sported char marks and reeked of smoke. 

You didn’t notice her approach as you busied yourself perusing her wares. “Anything got your attention?” You jumped at her voice and looked up to see her practically looming over you. Despite her intimidating stature, she was smiling politely. 

“Oh, uh, these clothes actually. I’m in the market for some new ones as I’m sure you can tell.” You chuckled a bit awkwardly but she seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. 

“You bet I can tell. For stars’ sake, it looks like you got caught in a wildfire.” She carried the tone of a stern mother and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“Yeah, something like that.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly and the child cooed loudly as you shifted him to one arm. 

“Is that your child?” The woman leaned in to get a better look, all but enveloping you in her shadow. The child cooed again when he saw her, showing off his burgeoning baby teeth. 

“Um, kinda. Not really. He’s my friend’s. I’m just watching him.” 

The woman stepped back again and a dark expression crossed her face. It was subtle, but you definitely noticed a shift in her attitude. “By ‘ _friend_ ,’ I assume you mean that Mandalorian you walked in here with?” 

“Oh! Well he’s—“ you stammered for a response but she cut you off. 

“I saw you two as soon as the light hit that shiny armor of his. I’m sure just about anybody with half a brain noticed him. You don’t come by a lot of Mandalorians these days.”

You glanced around nervously, now on high alert for anyone watching you. “A-and why’s that exactly?”

The woman raised an eyebrow at you, as if debating whether your question was serious. She didn’t call you out, however, but continued. “Imperials all but wiped them out. Though I s’pose we might see more now, what with the Empire falling and whatnot. I have to ask though,” her voice dropped, as close to a whisper as she could get in the noisy courtyard. “What’s someone like you doing with someone as dangerous as him? And with a child no less?” 

This was news to you. Everything you knew about the Mandalorians came from what little you’d been told since joining up with one, which wasn’t saying much. You started to think their history with the Imperials may have something to do with why this particular Mandalorian was so keen on helping you. Maybe you’d ask him about it later. 

“I’m part of his crew. And I... well you could say I owe him.” The woman stared you down silently for a moment, her eyes squinted in thought. Just as you thought maybe you should leave, she perked up again, returning to her polite shopkeeper demeanor. 

“Well I can only imagine what kind of trouble you must get into in his line of work. Something tells me you need a bit more than your basic duds. Here, let me find something.” She turned to rummage through some crates, leaving you in dumbstruck silence. Whether it was the prospect of losing a sale or the fear of having to deal with your ‘ _Mandalorian friend_ ’ you didn’t know, but you could tell she didn’t want to push her luck judging by the way she’d dropped the subject faster than a hot iron. 

She turned back to you with a new bundle in hand. “Here. I may not have anything quite like what that friend of yours wears but this is better than nothin’. It won’t stop a blaster bolt any means but it might just save you from a blade. Plus, it’ll keep you warm.” 

You shifted the kid to your other arm, not even noticing when the blanket slipped from his head. He giggled as his ears were finally freed from their confinement and you took the clothes from the woman’s hands cautiously. They were exactly what you needed and then some. You tried to hide the eagerness on your face, not wanting her to use it as an excuse to jack up the price. 

“How much?” You stood up straight and tried to put on your best bartering face but she wasn’t even paying attention. The woman was watching the child with wide-eyed curiosity as he yawned and leaned more into your side. 

“Before we get to that, I think I’ve actually got one more thing you might find of use.” 

—

Negotiations for some much-needed rations and medical supplies had gone about as well as could be expected. The Mandalorian walked outside with a case in-hand containing enough to restock the med-kit for a little while at least. Later he’d be able to pick up the rest from the dock where the Razor Crest was. He was definitely grateful for the... _business acquaintances_ he’d made on Takodana years ago. In a place like this, they were about as reliable as it got. Although that really just meant they hadn’t tried to stab him in the back yet. 

With business finished with, the Mandalorian returned to the courtyard where you were supposed to meet him. There was a moment of panic when he couldn’t spot you immediately, but he assured himself that you and the kid were fine. You probably just got caught up in the middle of something and would be back any minute. He ignored the stares of people passing by as he continued to look around for you. He’d long since gotten used to the attention he drew when he walked in a room. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little more bothered by it than usual. 

As he considered going to look for you, the sound of someone approaching behind him drew his attention. He spun around quickly, fully expecting trouble, his body tensing reflexively. 

“Woah, it’s just me. Wow, you’re really jumpy.” You stepped back from the Mandalorian, your free hand up in mock surrender. 

His shoulders fell as soon as he realized it was you. He didn’t have time to truly relax, however, once he saw what you were carrying. Your left hand was free while in your right you carried a bundle of clothing. That meant one thing was missing. 

“Where’s the kid?” His tone was cold, the beginnings of anger simmering just below the surface. You were momentarily caught off guard and didn’t respond immediately as he checked the ground around you. He took a step toward you and you instinctively stepped back, stammering a reply. 

“H-hang on, relax! He’s fine, I’ve got him right here.” You spun around to reveal the pack strapped to your back, the child’s head poking out curiously. The shopkeeper you’d gotten the new clothes from had also sold you this bag. It was sturdy and perfect size for the child to ride in without you having to carry him. And if necessary, you could close the flap to hide him, though he wouldn’t be the most comfortable. 

The Mandalorian could only sigh as those familiar little beady eyes stared up at him. The child grinned at the sight of his adoptive-father and cooed happily. “What happened to keeping him hidden?” 

You turned back to him and carefully slipped off the bag to let the kid out. You picked him up and placed your new clothes into the bag. “He didn’t like the blanket. I really don’t think his ears should be covered like that. And besides, this bag is perfect. Now we won’t have to carry him all the time.” 

The Mandalorian wanted to be angry or at the very least annoyed but the proud smile on your face stopped him. That and the innocent look on the kid's face made it all but impossible for him to be upset. “You know he can walk on his own right?” 

“Do you really make him follow you around on foot all the time? He’s like a foot tall, that must be exhausting.” 

The Mandalorian sighed again but this time he was grinning underneath the helmet, not that he'd admit it. “You’re going to spoil him. Come on, we should head back to the ship. I don’t want us to be out here when it gets dark.” 

You nodded and the child shuffled in your grasp. Stretching his tiny arms as best he could, he let out a fierce yawn. “Looks like someone probably needs a nap.” You chuckled under your breath and if you didn’t know better, you’d say the Mandalorian had done the same. Though the modulator in his helmet made it difficult to tell, you chose to believe it anyway. The three of you made your way back to the docks as quick as you’d arrived. 

—

With the child asleep in his pod, you finally had a little time to yourself. You were pleased to find out that the ship did, in fact, have a shower. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been able to take a proper shower. Being on the run left minimal time and opportunity for that sort of thing. The refresher was small, with barely any room for you to move around in but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you could finally scrub clean of all the soot and dirt of the past few days. You couldn’t wait to feel the warm water on your skin and just let all the tension in your muscles ease away. 

Okay so first off, the water was cold. Not lukewarm, not room temperature, just straight up _cold_. Secondly, it may have actually made you _more_ tense. There was nothing soothing about ice cold water. But hey, at least you were clean finally. That definitely made you feel a little better. 

The new clothes you’d gotten were quite possibly perfect. They weren’t anything too fancy but they were exactly what you needed. The pants and undershirt were thick, tear-resistant, and warm. The jacket was made of tough leather, no doubt from some kind of animal you’d never seen before, and most importantly, it had special padding built into the areas covering vital organs. You didn’t know exactly what it was made of but you figured it should’ve cost more than what you you paid. It wasn’t blast-proof by any means but the shopkeeper had told you it might just save your hide against a knife or blunt force (within reason, of course). And on top of that, you thought you looked pretty damn good, not that it mattered. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the small mirror that looked like it had seen better days. It was beginning to warp ever so slightly and there was a hairline crack in the corner but it still did it’s job. Seeing yourself all cleaned up and in new clothes somehow made you feel more human. You no longer looked and felt like some kind of feral animal, covered in burns and cuts, hair matted with sweat and dirt. It was amazing what even a mediocre shower could do. 

-

Now that he was finally alone, the Mandalorian made his way to the cockpit. He knew the child was asleep and you had told him you were going to freshen up. That gave him a little time at least. 

A light on the console blinked to alert him of a new message. Closing the door, he took a seat and let it play. 

_“You were right, Mando. Everything you told me about was on that chip. There’s a lot of Imperial info on there, including a lot of their recent activity. Lots of those Imps are still running around out there, trying to piece together what’s left of their damn ‘empire.’ Anyway, I transferred you the credits from the buyer I got. Should get them soon if you haven’t already.”_

The Mandalorian was content for once, this sounding like a best-case scenario. You’d been telling him the truth and to top it off, he actually made _more_ money than if you’d just brought in Dagos in the first place. Naturally, as the message continued, that contentment had to be whisked away. 

_“But uh... well there’s something else.”_ Even through the crackly speaker, the nervousness that crept into the man’s voice was clear. _“Look, I don’t know where you found this person but there’s more to their story than just what you’ve told me. Things you’ll probably want to know. But I have to talk to you in person. Meet me tomorrow morning if you can. I’ll send you the coordinates.”_

As the message clicked off, the Mandalorian sat back in his seat pensively. He couldn’t imagine what information there was that was so important he had to hear it in person. He hoped it was just what you’d told him earlier that day, after he’d already talked to his contact. 

“Knock knock.” The door to the cockpit hissed open and you leaned into the room curiously. The Mandalorian tried not to look startled as he turned to you. He couldn’t figure out how you kept getting the jump on him. 

As soon as he saw you, emotions flashed through his head he hadn’t entertained in a very long time. It was brief, the thoughts disregarded as quickly as they’d arrived, but he couldn’t help but think you looked... _good_. Now that you didn’t look like you were on the brink of death, he could actually see you as you really were. He’d almost say you were _glowing_ , for lack of a better word. You practically radiated a renewed sense of vitality. 

However short that moment may have been, the Mandalorian was too distracted suppressing those fleeting thoughts to respond properly. “That was fast,” was all he could say.

“Shower was freezing. You could’ve warned me,” you only teased, but he didn’t seem to catch the joke. That, or he didn’t care. 

“Not exactly running a resort here.” The Mandalorian feigned offense, though he did tend to get touchy when people trash-talked his ship. Sure it was old and didn’t exactly have much in the way of ‘luxuries’ but it was a good ship and he intended to keep it until it was as good as dead. 

You made your way to the co-pilot’s seat, just barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s gaze followed you as you walked. He had a particular way of watching things that you could tell he’d honed over the years. With the helmet’s visor completely blacked out, you couldn’t tell where he was looking at any given time. He knew this, and used it to his advantage. If he wanted to watch something or someone without being obvious, he would lower his head slightly and face to the side. Enough that you’d think he was looking at something else, but if you paid attention, it was clear where he was really looking. It helped that very few people wanted to make anything close to eye contact with him. Luckily, you’d become an exception to that. You wondered what other little tricks he’d had to learn because of that helmet. 

“Did I hear you talking in here?” You asked as he turned back to the console. He pressed a couple buttons but you couldn’t even guess what for. He didn’t appear to be readying for takeoff.

“I was checking a message from my contact for the chip. We got the credits but he said he wants to talk in person.” The Mandalorian turned back toward you. 

“What for, since you said he already paid you? Is something wrong?” 

“Don’t know. He didn’t say specifically. Just said he wants to meet tomorrow morning.” 

You leaned forward, intertwining your hands pensively. “How did you say you knew this guy again?” 

“I didn’t.” He said it as if that was the end of the discussion, but changed his mind at the last second. “His name is Kelan. He’s a retired Alliance soldier. I met him a handful of years ago on a job. If anyone knows where to sell Imperial military secrets, it’s him.” 

“Alright so we leave in the morning then? You said he’s on Takodana too, right?” 

The Mandalorian nodded before continuing, “We’ll stay here until then. He’s a little ways away but it won’t take long to fly there.” 

You stood up and stretched as you spoke, “Alright then. Guess we’ve got a little time to kill.” 

-

You busied yourself with restocking the medkit and familiarizing yourself with the ship. At one point you’d wandered back to the kid’s room, if you could even call it that. It was more of a cupboard or a walk-in closet at best. There was room for the bassinet he slept in, hovering at about waist-height and enough space to walk around it but that’s about it. You could tell it used to be a storage space that the Mandalorian had cleared out. That explained the excess of stuff lying around the cargo bay.

As you approached the room, however, you stopped dead in your tracks and clung to the wall as if for dear life. Just as you’d rounded the corner, you caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian standing over the bassinet, the child staring up at him. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to hide exactly, but you had a feeling that the moment should go uninterrupted. 

You did, however, peek around the corner just enough to watch the scene in front of you unfold. Was it the classiest thing to do? Maybe not, but you knew you probably wouldn’t get another opportunity to see the Mandalorian like this again. He held a hand out to the child who took it gladly. The child’s hand was far smaller than the Mandalorian’s, who closed his hand around the little one’s with a surprising gentleness. He didn’t say anything but you heard him sigh gently. You weren’t sure whether from tiredness or relief or something else entirely. The child simply looked at him as if he could understand everything going on in the Mandalorian’s head. 

You almost stumbled trying to get a better view, nearly blowing your cover in the process, when the Mandalorian cradled something in his free hand that seemed to be tied around the child’s neck. From where you stood, all you could see was that it was shiny and silver. 

When your foot made an audible scuffing sound, you quickly stood up straight as if you’d just turned the corner, the Mandalorian turning toward you just as quickly. Neither of you said anything as you stood for a moment before he simply turned and left, disappearing down the hall. You turned back to the child who just cooed happily at your attention. Now that you were close, you could see the amulet around the child’s neck. He held onto it as of it were precious and you knelt down to get a better look. 

The child didn’t protest as you took the pendant in your own hand gently, observing the mysterious sigil. It was a skull of some sort, though not from any creature you’d seen before. To be fair, there was a lot of things in the galaxy you hadn’t seen. But whatever it was, you sensed it was important. You helped tuck the pendant back into the child’s coat and stood back up. Now that he was up from his nap, he raised his arms at you hopefully. You couldn’t say no to that face. The Mandalorian was right, you were definitely going to spoil this child.

-

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful. You ran into the Mandalorian in the cargo bay going though supplies. You didn’t chat so much as make small talk for a few minutes which you supposed was basically a full conversation by his standards. It was pleasant nonetheless. He’d definitely warmed up to you in the past few days, at least a little bit. You considered that a win in your book. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to warm up to others very quickly and you weren’t going to push it. 

Once you found your bunk you all but passed out. Compared to the floor of the cargo bay or the tiny storage compartment, the bunk felt like it was practically fit for a king. It was small, the cushioning minimal, and the blankets thin and scratchy, but it was better than anywhere you’d slept in a long time. You slept so well, in fact, that the Mandalorian had to wake you up in the morning. 

The sight of the heavily-armored bounty hunter standing over you first thing in the morning may have set off your fight-or-flight reflexes. He’d startled you awake even though it was just a hand on your shoulder. Instinctively, you twisted out of his grip and swung at him. Your morning reflexes left something to be desired, however, and he caught your arm with barely any effort. You were both just lucky that you hadn't responded by using your powers.

The morning went pretty smoothly after that initial incident. After a bite to eat, you met up in the cockpit and readied for takeoff. It was barely a half hour to get to where this ‘Kelan’ lived. You touched down in a clearing in the middle of the forest. It took you a moment to see the house in front of you, or at least what was left of it. Vines wove in and out of the structure at odd intervals, leaving parts of the structure exposed to the elements. Rust patches covered the metal elements of the building, causing it to blend in with the brown wood of the trees. There were generators outside and lights were on inside so there was clearly someone home. You weren’t sure how this guy was managing out here all alone but aside from the rough exterior, he seemed to be doing alright. You’d seen worse living arrangements in your travels of the galaxy's edges. 

You followed the Mandalorian as usual, the child remaining on the ship this time. You weren’t going far and the Mandalorian had said this shouldn’t take long. You let yourselves into the abode with a polite knock, Kelan being nowhere in sight. 

“Kelan?” The Mandalorian called out, looking for any sign of the man. You both looked up as a soft ‘thud’ sounded from the floor above you, followed by hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. The man, Kelan, stopped abruptly as he entered the room. He was a fairly small man, smaller than the Mandalorian, with dark hair striped with grey and dark circles under eyes. He looked back and forth between the two of you, his gaze lingering on you just long enough to be odd. For a moment he looked surprised to see the two of you, despite inviting you. 

“Ah, good to see you again, Mando!” Kelan’s anxiety all but disappeared, however, as he addressed the Mandalorian jovially. “I’m glad you made it. Please, please, have a seat.” He gestured for both of you to have a seat in the living area as he turned toward what must be the kitchen. 

“What’s this all about, Kelan? You said it was important.” The Mandalorian opted to stay standing and leaned against the wall behind you, his arms crossed. You took the offered seat on one of the chairs in the living area, not wanting to appear rude. 

Kelan shuffled back into the room with two glasses of water, offering one to you which you accepted. For a moment he looked like he was going to offer the other one to the Mandalorian before deciding against it, for obvious reasons. Instead he took his own sip from the glass as if that was his intention all along. 

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see both of you.” He gestured to you specifically. “Mando’s told me quite a bit about you.” You shot the Mandalorian a look, wondering exactly how much he’d told this man without informing you. Kelan was clearly embarrassed for a moment, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that. 

The Mandalorian piped up before anyone said anything else they shouldn’t. “I told Kelan about you so he could find out what information the Imperials had on you. Also, to confirm your story was true. You understand it was just a precautionary measure.” 

You tried not to look offended. You just nodded and kept quiet, sipping your water. It was fair, really. You couldn’t expect him to just trust you on your word alone, not when he had the means to confirm what you said. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that he gave your information to a stranger without telling you. 

Kelan laughed awkwardly, trying to maintain his cheerful disposition under the circumstances. “Well it all worked out, I suppose. The data corroborated your story, at least what he told me anyway.” Neither you nor the Mandalorian responded, leaving Kelan to fill the silence once again. “Well, the thing I had wanted to talk about was about you, actually.” You didn’t like the way he kept looking back and forth between you and the Mandalorian as if he couldn’t maintain eye contact with either of you. 

“It was about why the Imperials were after you in the first place, but I suppose you already know all that,” he continued. 

That got your attention. You sat up straighter, setting your half-empty glass down on the low table in front of you. “I don’t actually. I wasn’t able to learn much while I was trapped.” 

“Well your planet, Vollalei, has been under Imperial control for years, since long before it was uninhabitable.” 

The Mandalorian interrupted, “Didn’t they make it uninhabitable when they pulled all the resources from it?” 

“Yes, technically, but the planet wasn’t in such good condition when they found it.” 

Your brow furrowed, “What does this have to do with me?” 

“I’m getting there. They found you in stasis, right?” You nodded. “Well from what I read, you were the only one they found alive. The other stasis pods had either been destroyed or malfunctioned and what remained of your civilization had been all but destroyed before the Empire ever got there.” 

The room fell silent as you got up and turned toward the window, not wanting to face the man recounting your worst fears. So it was true, your people had wiped themselves out after all. You admitted that a small part of you had hoped that some semblance of your culture had survived somewhere out there, but apparently the universe had other plans. 

Kelan quickly tried to carry the subject on. “My point that I’m getting to is that the Empire wanted to study you. Your planet was discovered to be rich in a mineral known as kyber crystals.” 

The Mandalorian was only half listening, half focused on you. He watched as you stared out the window even as Kelan was talking, only moving his gaze when you turned back around at the mention of kyber crystals. That had actually caught his attention as well. 

“I’ve heard that before,” he said. “I know I have. What exactly are these crystals?” 

Kelan shrugged, turning back to you. “You tell me,” he said. “Whatever they were, the Empire wanted them, _bad_. I couldn’t tell you why, but I can say it had something to do with you. Supposedly they thought there was some kind of connection between these crystals and your abilities.” 

This was news to you. You had no clue what these crystals were. The Mandalorian could tell by your expression that you didn’t know about any of this. He took a step away from the wall, uncrossing his arms. You tried to speak up but your voice seemed to catch in your throat. You coughed, not sure why you were suddenly clamming up. 

“S-sorry, hang on—“ You broke out coughing again, your throat beginning to burn. You reached out for your glass of water but your leg buckled, nearly toppling you over. You dropped to one knee, a sharp pain suddenly hitting your stomach. “What’s...going on?” Your voice came out croaky and hoarse. 

The Mandalorian rushed to your side as soon as you fell, one hand on your back and the other braced against your shoulder to hold you up. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He searched for answers but you could only shake your head as you continued coughing. This time, when you took your hand away, a crimson stain marked your palm. You looked up at the Mandalorian, your eyes wide with with fear and confusion. The situation was spiraling out of control as he watched the color drain from your skin, your hand flying to his shoulder to hold yourself up. 

It was then that his gaze landed on your glass of water on the table. His heart sank like a stone as he immediately realized what was going on. How could he be so _stupid?_ He’d let his guard down, believing Kelan to be trustworthy. The man was a rebel fighter after all, they were supposed to have been the good guys, or so everyone said. Whatever Kelan had put in your drink was clearly poisoned. The Mandalorian reached for his blaster but it was too late. Kelan had already drawn his own weapon and was aimed straight at him.

“I really wish you’d come alone, Mando.” All friendliness had vanished from the man’s voice, replaced by wavering fear. 

“What the hell are you doing, Kelan?!” There wasn’t time for an interrogation. You were getting sicker by the second and the only thing keeping you from collapsing entirely was the Mandalorian’s arm now wrapped around you. 

“I’m doing the same thing you do, Mando. I’m collecting a bounty. When I saw what the Imps will pay for this one, well- I couldn’t just pass up the opportunity.” 

“You’re a traitor to your own people! You fought for the Alliance!” The Mandalorian was losing his composure, that much was clear. And you were losing consciousness. You couldn’t hear what was going on around you. You barely registered the Mandalorian next to you. Between what felt like a stab wound in your stomach and the searing pain clawing it’s way up your throat, your attention was pretty limited. 

“The war’s over Mando! And what do I have to show for it? Nightmares and an empty stomach. The second they were done with me they threw me out like yesterday’s trash. So much for a ‘New Republic.’” Kelan’s hands were shaking but his grip on the blaster remained firm. The Mandalorian couldn’t make a move without risk of being shot. He didn’t wasn’t to test the beskar at this range and he definitely didn’t want to risk you being shot. 

Kelan was practically yelling at this point. “This’ll set me up nice, Mando. Won’t have to worry about food for years. And I can finally get off this shithole planet. You too, Mando. We finish this now and we can both walk away rich.” 

The Mandalorian went silent and there was a few moments that you were lucid enough to worry that he was actually considering Kelan’s offer. You wanted to plead with him not to but your voice didn’t work. Plus, you were too busy crying out in pain as your stomach tried to liquify itself. You could barely move, it hurt so much. Why did Kelan have to poison you? Why couldn’t he do the decent thing and just shoot you? This was no way to die. 

The Mandalorian looked at you and his decision was clear. It was in that moment that Kelan realized the colossal mistake he had made. If there was one person in the whole galaxy you didn’t cross, it was a Mandalorian and he’d just crossed one of the most infamous Mandalorians there was. He knew there was no way he was talking his way out of this one. 

The first shot struck beskar, ricocheting off his pauldron and going through the ceiling. The Mandalorian used the split-second window it gave him and kicked his foot under the table, flipping it up to use as cover. Kelan ducked behind a counter and another shot rang out, striking the upturned table. 

With no time to lose, the Mandalorian fired at Kelan before he could take cover again, barely giving him time to aim. Luckily, in the close quarters, his shot hit its mark and Kelan collapsed. Moving as quickly as possible, the Mandalorian turned to you, tucking his arms under your back and knees. He felt a sharp pang of guilt as you cried out, the movement worsening your pain. 

He had to get you to the ship and fast. There were stimpacs in the medkit. They were designed to heal minor physical injuries in a pinch, not something like poison, but they’d have to do. He didn’t have anything else. They _had_ to work. He couldn’t let you die. 

Every step felt like a fresh wound in your abdomen. You’d coughed up enough blood that your sleeves were stained with it and for a minute you thought you’d actually been stabbed. You wanted to say something, anything really, to the Mandalorian but the most you could do was grasp feebly at his chestplate as you tried to stop coughing, to no avail. 

The Mandalorian could tell you were trying to say something but there just wasn’t time. He had to focus on getting you back. He almost stumbled sprinting up the slope toward the ship, its ramp already lowered. His grip on you tightened as he regained his balance and dashed up the ramp. The second you were onboard, he laid you down on the floor as carefully as possible and rushed to find the medkit. 

You felt far too cold, and the Mandalorian’s absence from your side only made it worse. At the same time, however, you felt like you were on fire. You briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to be burned by your powers. That cold, bright light. If only those powers were any help now. Your breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps, at least when you weren’t coughing up your insides. The reappearance of the Mandalorian above you brought back some sense of comfort, at least. Without really thinking, you reached up for him, gripping his shoulder with all the fading strength you had left. 

“Mando— Mando, please,” you croaked out a plea, though you didn’t know what he could do. You just knew you wanted the pain to stop. The pain and the fear. The idea was starting to settle in your mind that this might just kill you. You’d been in dangerous situations before, even in the last couple days, but there hadn’t been a moment like this. There was no point where’d you’d felt like you might be dying and there was nothing you could do about it. A deep, primal fear had surfaced in your mind and you felt tears stinging your eyes. 

“Hey, stay with me ok! It’ll be okay, just— just hang on!” The Mandalorian flung open the medkit, haphazardly tossing aside the newly-purchased supplies to get to what he needed. The stimpacs were easy to miss; small canisters designed to directly inject a healing agent, and there were only a few of them. The second that one was in his hand, he injected the medicine into your arm, followed by the two other stimpacs. If there was ever a time for overkill, it was now. He still didn’t even know if the medicine would work or not. 

Your vision was beginning to blur and your head swam. The pain seemed to fade a little, but that may have had something to do with the numbness that was slowly creeping up your limbs. You just wanted to rest. If you could just rest your head, you’d feel better. You let your eyes slip closed until you were jostled to attention once more. 

“Hey you gotta stay awake okay? You gotta stay with me, you hear?” The Mandalorian tried to keep his voice relatively calm but there was no use. You could hear the panic behind it even in your dazed state. 

“It... it hurts, Mando. Just— just let me rest.” You felt the rough leather of his glove on your cheek and all you could think was how warm it was. You leaned into his palm, savoring the warmth of his body. You placed your own hand over his to keep him from moving away again. 

“I know, I know it does but you gotta stay awake, okay? Please, please just stay with me.” The Mandalorian pleaded with you even as he internally pleaded with whatever force may or may not govern this universe to let you live. This was his fault. You were in his care, and he failed you. You trusted him with your secrets and he betrayed that trust. Now you were paying the consequences. 

He needed to do anything he could to keep you awake. Just long enough for the medicine to kick in. “Hey, hey can you hear me?” He took your free hand in his and brought it to his chest instinctively. Your eyes were glassy, your focus somewhere behind him. 

You could hear him. You tried to say something but couldn’t move your mouth. Couldn’t even make a sound. The best you could do was nod weakly. You trained your focus on him as best you could, fixing your gaze on the glare of the light reflecting off his helmet. Stars, that metal was shiny. You thought you could go blind looking at it. 

“I’ve got something important to tell you but you need to listen okay?” He was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. There was nothing else he could do. The medicine was your only hope. “You wanted to know my name, right? Right?” You only responded with a sharp breath but you could hear him. He didn’t know what he was doing. Actually, he knew exactly what he was doing. After all this, he’d owe you _at least_ his name. And if you died, well— you weren’t going to get that far. He refused to acknowledge that possibility just yet. 

“My name’s Din. Din Djarin. Got it?” He had hoped desperately that would provoke a response, but he couldn’t even tell if you’d understood him. The medicine was clearly not working, at least not fast enough. Your breathing was all but imperceptible, your skin had turned deathly pale, and you’d lost all strength to move your body. 

“Please, please stay with me,” he was practically whispering as your eyes drifted shut, consciousness finally escaping you. He was angry and upset. Furious, actually. Furious at himself for allowing this to happen. Ever since Kuiil’s death, he’d refused to let another friend die because of him. You hadn’t been here long, but it was enough to leave an impact on him. He’d taken it upon himself to protect you and he’d be damned if he didn’t keep trying. 

As if to remind him of who he was protecting, the child had found his way into the room, no doubt drawn to all the commotion. The Mandalorian looked up at the young one, still clutching your hand to his chest. It gave him an idea. He hated the idea, and he knew it was likely impossible, but he had to grasp at every last straw if it meant saving you. 

“I know this isn’t your responsibility and I can’t ask this of you,” he extended a hand to the child, who waddled over curiously. “But I need your help. I don’t even know if you _can_ help, or if you can even understand me but please. Whatever you did back on Nevarro to heal Karga, I need you to do it again. Please...” He trailed off and the child only stared at him, puzzled. He’d known it was a long shot. Impossible, even. He’d never felt this helpless. Not even trapped in a burning building with a fatal head injury, convinced he’d reached the end of the line. He’d made the choice to sacrifice himself. It was only the insistence of a droid that had saved him. 

You didn’t choose this. You didn’t sacrifice yourself. You’d asked him for help and this is what you got in return. Your blood was on his hands. All this was finally settling in as the Mandalorian bowed his head in defeat. It was not a gesture he took lightly. He refused to let go of your hand, however, be it from grief or lingering denial. He didn’t even notice as the child walked around to your side, looking at you calmly. 

It wasn’t until the child let out a hum of effort that the Mandalorian looked up again. The child had his hands on your stomach, his eyes screwed tightly shut. The Mandalorian tried not to let his hopes up, but he couldn’t help the tiny bit of weight off his chest at the thought of this working. The child strained for what felt like minutes, tiny claws pressed into your skin in concentration, before his eyes snapped open and he stumbled backwards. The Mandalorian reached to grab him before he fell, the little one immediately passing out from exhaustion in his arms. 

For a few moments, all was silent, save for the Mandalorian’s own modulated breathing. Just as he felt the last of his hopes dashed away, the rise of your chest caught his attention. Your breathing seemed to pick up, just barely, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t risk his mind playing tricks on him. With neither you nor the child awake to see him, he decided to do something he’d normally never even consider. 

After carefully setting the child down, the Mandalorian reached up to hook his fingers under his helmet. He hesitated a moment, but he couldn’t stop now. With a hiss, the helmet detached and he slid it off, setting it carefully beside him. 

It was the first time he’d seen you with his own eyes, as opposed to through a lens. As a matter of fact, it was the first time in a long time he’d seen _anyone_ with his own eyes. For a moment, he could only look at you, taking note of all the details that we’re normally hidden from him. The true color of your skin, the tiniest of blemishes on your face, all of it was invisible though the helmet. A pang in his chest reminded him of what he’d meant to do, snapping him from his thoughts. 

He cradled your head carefully, moving to place his head gently on your chest, listening for your heartbeat. Surely enough, it was there, and had returned to a relatively normal pace. He almost had to laugh as relief washed over him. You were alive and breathing. The child had managed to save you after all. 

You would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only good thing to come out of self-isolation is the time I now have to work on fanfic 
> 
> Also I really didn't want this chapter to be this long but I couldn't break it up in a way that I liked so I guess merry chrysler


	7. Chapter 7

It takes you a second to recognize that you’re in your bunk. 

It takes a few more seconds to figure out how you got there. 

You remember Kelan. You remember suddenly being in pain, shots being fired, being carried back, more pain. You remember— you remember—

 _Din._

You were dying. Poison. He was trying to keep you awake. He’d told you his name. You were certain that part was real. 

For a moment you thought that maybe you _had_ died, but that idea was quickly nixed. If you were dead, you figured you wouldn’t feel like shit so much. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were still dying. Your throat was dry and burning, you struggled to find your voice, and you were so nauseous that even the idea of getting up was making you sick. You tried to at least raise your head but as soon as you moved, the room started spinning. You quickly screwed your eyes shut and willed the pounding in your head to stop, ignoring the gurgle of protest from your stomach. 

You could only lay there for awhile, silently staring up at the blank ceiling of the Razor Crest. Eventually, a small shuffle to your left caught your attention and you decided to try moving once again. This time you turned your head almost agonizingly slow, eyes shut to keep the room still. You were certainly surprised by what you saw when you opened them. 

The Mandalorian sat by your bedside, slumped over in a chair. He held the child in his lap, who was watching you curiously. The Mandalorian appeared to be asleep, his head hung low and shoulders relaxed, but you’d made that mistake before. 

“M-Mando?” You croaked out, your throat still burning slightly as you did so. He didn’t respond and you realized he actually was asleep this time. The slow, steady hum of his breathing seemed to confirm that. You didn’t want to wake him since odds were high that he hadn’t slept much recently anyway. 

That led you to wonder just how long you’d been out. An hour? A few hours? Longer? You didn’t know how long it took to recover from poison, though it didn’t feel like you’d recovered much. As a matter of fact, how _had_ you managed to recover? The details of the whole incident were fuzzy to say the least, but slowly you were piecing it all together. But once again, one thing stuck out clear as day in your head. 

The Mandalorian has told you his name. You didn’t know why, exactly. You didn’t completely grasp the magnitude of the action, either. But you could tell it was important. You knew enough by now to understand that he didn’t just tell his name to anyone. 

Your neck was beginning to strain from being turned to the side, but rather than turn back, you decided you’d roll onto your side. It was a daunting task, for sure. Once again, you moved at a snail’s pace. The ache in your muscles nearly made your arms collapse, but eventually you made it. You let out a loud sigh, now facing the Mandalorian and child. 

The little one cooed and you held up a finger to your lips, though you quickly realized he probably didn’t understand the gesture. 

“Shhhh, you’ll wake him up,” you whispered and the kid seemed to get the point. He looked up at the Mandalorian silently and then back to you. You were amazed by that child. He understood far more than you gave him credit for. Maybe not your words exactly, but he understood your meaning. There certainly was something special about him. 

With the room now silent, you closed your eyes once more, still surprisingly tired. Well, not _that_ surprising. You’d almost died after all. But even though you weren’t dying anymore, you still felt like you’d been sapped of all your strength. You thought about drifting off to sleep again. The Mandalorian was asleep, the child was relaxed, now was as good of a time as any. 

For awhile you just lay there, your mind deciding to start acting up instead of letting you sleep. Naturally, you thought about the Mandalorian. It may have been the delirium talking, but he’d seemed uncharacteristically panicked when you’d gotten back to the ship. From what you’d seen of him, he was always calm in a crisis. In fact, he was just always calm. But this time was different. You could hear it in his voice. He'd sounded _scared_. 

Since it was clear you weren’t going to fall asleep anytime soon, you decided to open your eyes again. To your surprise, the Mandalorian was now sitting upright, though he wasn’t directly facing you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His voice caught you off guard. An apology wasn’t what you were expecting, at least not right away. You also hated that he felt the need to say it. You couldn’t let him blame himself. 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” You wished he’d look at you, but he was still facing the doorway, as if refusing to make eye contact. That little action hurt you more than the fact that he felt the need to apologize at all. You mentally traced the profile of his helmet, perhaps still a little out of it, or perhaps just desperate for him to face you. 

“Yes it is. I told Kelan about you. I blindly trusted him. And I brought you straight to him. If I’d just trusted you in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.” He turned further from your gaze, breaking your heart the slightest bit more. He felt like he was getting further away, though he hadn’t moved. 

By all rights, you should be mad at him. It was completely fair to blame him for this, you knew that. But you also knew that everything he had done had been to protect others. He had told Kelan about you because he needed to know that your story was true. He couldn’t risk you trying to trick him, especially not while he had the child to protect. And once he had confirmed your story, his efforts turned to protecting _you_. Really, that’s what he’d been doing the entire time. That’s why he brought you onboard in the first place. You were smart enough to see that. And while you didn’t understand much of the galaxy’s recent politics, you knew that if there was anyone you should be able to trust wasn’t going to rat you out to the Imperials, it was a Rebel. He’d had no reason to believe Kelan would betray you. 

So no, you didn’t blame the Mandalorian. Not after he’d risked his life to protect you, not after he’d risked his child by bringing you onboard, and _certainly_ not after he’d tried so desperately to save your life. But you knew he wouldn’t hear any of it. If there was one thing you’d learned, it’s that he was a stubborn man. There wasn’t much you could say that would make him change his mind. 

“If this is the kind of thing that usually happens when you trust people then I don’t blame you.” You tried to laugh but it caught in your throat, sending you into a coughing fit instead.

There was an ache in the Mandalorian’s chest as he listened to you cough. He couldn’t understand why you were letting him off the hook. You’d almost died. What part of that didn’t you get? How could you still trust him? Even when he tried to protect you, you still got hurt. He couldn’t stand it. He wished you’d yell at him, tell him off, _something_. 

He got to his feet, figuring if he left then maybe you’d get the chance to sort out your thoughts. Regardless, you still needed rest. Taking the child with, he made his way toward the door. 

“Din, wait.” 

He froze. A part of him hadn’t believed that you’d remember his name. Hearing it for the first time in quite awhile was jarring to say the least. The last time he’d heard it had been from Moff Gideon back on Nevarro. It had been a threat. But this was different. Your voice was gentle and pleading. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said his name with such softness. The idea that someone could know his name, not to use it as a threat but rather to reach out to him, well... he’d almost forgotten it was possible.

For the first time since you’d awoken, he looked at you. Finally, he could meet your gaze and yet somehow you felt worse. His helmet was expressionless of course, but underneath you could sense something. He’d reacted to his name as if it was a curse. It was enough to render you silent. 

“Get some rest. We can talk later.” He left the room abruptly, not so much as giving you a chance to argue. When the door hissed shut and you were left in silence once again, you resisted the urge shout from frustration. 

Gritting your teeth, you pressed the flat of your palms into your brow, blocking out the light from the room and willing the pounding in your head to stop. You just wanted everything to stop. You wanted things to go back to normal, but unfortunately you didn’t know what normal looked like. This job wasn’t normal, this ship wasn’t normal, the Mandalorian sure as hell wasn’t normal. You hadn’t had anything resembling _normal_ since before you went into hyper sleep. No, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore, but it wasn’t this. Not this moment, not these circumstances. 

But with nothing you could do about it, you decided that for now, your best option was to shove all these thoughts to the back of your head and just go back to sleep. Before you could get comfortable, however, a shiver wracked your body and you realized you weren’t wearing your jacket. You didn’t have a chance to dwell on what could’ve happened before you looked back to your left and noticed it hanging on the chair. The first thing you noticed when you grabbed it was that the sleeves were completely clean. You distinctly remembered your blood staining the fabric as you’d tried not to literally cough up your insides. 

You glanced towards the door, a pretty clear image of what had happened playing your head. Rolling carefully onto your back once more, you draped your jacket over you for a blanket and let yourself drift off into what would turn out to be a fitful sleep.

-

You awoke as restless as you had been in your sleep. Once again, you had no clue as to how long you were out but it couldn’t have been long this time. You were beginning to feel like you’d slept enough for a lifetime. Technically, you’d slept enough for multiple lifetimes. That was kind of the whole purpose of hyper sleep. So naturally, you’d had enough for awhile. Now you were determined to leave this room, no matter how slow you had to take it. 

It still took a considerable amount of effort just to move, but the overwhelming nausea from before had subsided into something more manageable. It wasn’t the ideal situation but you’d take what you could get. 

The process of swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up was normally the kind of thing that was so easy to do, you didn’t even have to think about it. Now however, it was an arduous task that took a frustrating amount of time. Really it was less than ten seconds, but even that felt like a long time for such a simple action. 

Unfortunately, that was easy part. Standing up would be a hurdle in of itself, but it should be smooth sailing once you cleared it. Scrunching your eyes shut and bracing yourself with a deep breath, you forced yourself to your feet, using the wall to balance. Your brain suddenly felt as if it had been rattled around your skull like a ship caught in a storm. You knew that if you opened your eyes just then, the dizziness would send you sprawling onto the floor so you opted squeeze your eyes shut tighter, if that was even possible. 

It took a few deep breaths for the storm to settle, but finally you felt comfortable enough to open your eyes. The sight of your room made you realize just how monumental the task ahead was. If it took you this long just to be able to stand up, it would take light years for you to reach the cockpit, where the Mandalorian would likely be. 

Before your frustration could get the better of you, you reminded yourself that the hard part was over. With the pounding in your head reduced to a dull throb, you put one foot in front of the other and made your way to the door.

You thanked the stars that your bunk was on the upper level because you sure as hell didn’t want to have to climb any ladders. It was a slow trek but you were almost there. The door to the cockpit was already open. 

The Mandalorian was scrolling through what looked like a list of planets when you approached. Before you could get a good look, however, he promptly got to his feet, the holographic display shuttering off. For once he’d actually heard you enter the room. 

“You should still be resting. You’re not fully healed yet,” was all he said. No ‘hello,’ no ‘how are you feeling’. You were beginning to tire of him telling you what to do. 

“I slept for a hundred years, Mando. I think I’ll be fine.” You did nothing to hide the irritation in your voice. You assumed that was why he seemed to tense ever so slightly at your words. Or perhaps you were imagining things. It was so hard to understand what was going through that chrome head of his. 

The real reason the Mandalorian had reacted to your words was something you wouldn’t have guessed in a million years. It was something he wouldn’t even admit to himself. You’d called him ‘Mando’ again and that struck a chord. 

It’s not like he’d told you his name with the intention of you actually using it. In fact, he’d rather you not make it a regular thing. But he couldn’t ignore the pang in his chest when he remembered the way you’d spoken his name before. That soft, urging plea of yours. He certainly wouldn’t _say_ that he wanted to hear it again, but it was true nonetheless. Oh, what he wouldn’t trade just to hear that tone in your voice again rather than the hostility you displayed now. But he couldn’t act on that want, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. 

“You’re not fine. The effects of that poison may take another couple days to wear off. It’ll only take longer if you keep straining yourself.” 

His levelheadedness only irritated you further. 

“Seriously, I _am_ fine. I’m tougher than you give me credit for.” You hadn’t meant for the words to come as a snarl, but there it was. You hated being mad at the man that had technically just saved your life, but you hated being treated like you were fragile even more. 

“That’s not what I meant.” The Mandalorian took a step toward you, causing you to reflexively back away. 

“Why are you so _stubborn?_ Why can’t we just move on from this whole mess? I survived, didn’t I? Why are you being weird about it?” 

“Because it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t get hurt again!” He wasn’t quite yelling, but you were pretty sure it was the first time he’d raised his voice at you in any capacity. Or at least out of anger. Maybe frustration was a better word. Whichever it was, it only made you feel the need to argue more. 

“Why does everything have to be your responsibility, exactly?” 

“Because people have died due to the choices I’ve made! People that didn’t deserve it. If I don’t take that responsibility, it will only happen again.”

That shut you up for a moment. Unfortunately, you weren’t much in a pitying mood, and were getting a bit tired of the ‘lone hero’ act that the Mandalorian was so desperate to uphold. 

“Except not everything’s your fault. Sometimes bad shit just happens to people that don’t deserve it. That’s how the galaxy works. So instead of coddling me, how about you actually listen to me? When I say I’m fine, it means I’m _fine—_ “

Except you weren’t fine. Mid-rant, you felt a sudden stab in your gut, not unlike right after you’d been poisoned, albeit much more subdued. Even so, the pain was enough to cut you off, your hand flying to your abdomen as you doubled over. 

You fell in what seemed like slow motion, your knees hitting the floor surprising gently. It took you a moment to realize why, as you were more focused on riding out the pain by scrunching your eyes shut and blocking out as much stimuli as possible. 

You opened your eyes to the Mandalorian by your side, one arm wrapped tight around you and the other hand braced against your shoulder to support you. Of course he had to swoop in just as you were yelling at him. What a _fucking hero._

To top things off, you’re even more infuriated by the feeling of _comfort_ being in his arms. A small part of you wanted nothing more than to just lean into his strong frame, his arm around your waist supporting you in a way you could almost mistake for intimate if he were anybody else. The other, much bigger part of you wanted to shove him away and force him to stop coddling you and just _talk_ to you. 

Not keen on either of those options, you just sighed instead, the pain slowly ebbing away. You took a deep breath and let the tension leave your body as best you could, all the fight leaving you as well. You didn’t want to be angry, especially at the Mandalorian. You were just frustrated and sick of feeling helpless. 

“I’m sorry.” You let your gaze drift to the floor as if to hide the defeat in your expression. It was pointless, however, as the Mandalorian was much too close to hide from. 

“Don’t apologize.” He echoed you deliberately. In his own way, he was telling you that he’d been listening to you. _Actually_ listening. In his mind, he was still toiling over what you’d said. 

But for now, his original point still stood. You still needed to rest. “How about a deal? You go back to your bunk, get some actual rest, and then we’ll talk more.” 

You gave him a half-hearted smile, just relieved neither of you were yelling anymore. “Fine. But we talk first. Non-negotiable.” 

He nodded silently and helped you back to your feet. The trek back to your room wound up taking longer than it needed it to, mainly because the Mandalorian kept insisting he help you walk and you kept refusing. If you so much as stumbled, he was at your side again. You were certain he would’ve carried you back if you asked. Just the thought alone was embarrassing enough to send a bit of color to your cheeks. You counted your lucky stars that he couldn’t see your face right now. 

You flopped down on your bunk with all the grace of a newborn blurrg. Your eyes drifted shut for just a moment as you relaxed. You hated to admit it, but you could use another nap. At this rate, you were going to sleep your life away. _Again._

You saw the Mandalorian make for the door and you snapped back to attention. “Not going back on our deal, are you Mando? We need to talk.” 

“You looked about ready to pass out a moment ago.” 

“Afraid not. You’re stuck here for now. May as well get comfortable.” You sat up and gestured to chair where the Mandalorian had been seated when you awoke the first time. He obliged without complaint and took a seat. You turned so you could face him, your back against the well and legs dangling over the edge of the bunk. 

“I’m not going to break, you know. You don’t need to treat me like I’m made of glass.” You were calmer now, and you hoped that would help you get through to him. 

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know. I know. I’m just... tired of people getting hurt around me.” He was staring vacantly at the floor, not even looking out you out of the corner of his visor as you’d caught him doing on multiple occasions. Between that and the low tone of his voice, you could tell he was just tired _period._

You’d wager he hadn’t been this open with anyone in a long time, if ever. It made you feel a bit bad for yelling at him earlier, but it was important. Sooner or later, he’d have to talk to you for real. May as well be now, you figured. 

“Why did you tell me your name?” The way that the Mandalorian froze a moment before turning toward you hadn’t gone unnoticed. You knew you were entering troubled waters here, but you took the plunge anyway. 

“You wanted to know it. I needed something to keep you awake. That’s the first thing I thought of.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but the Mandalorian’s voice lacked a little of its usual calm confidence and he knew it. He also knew that you knew it. 

“I know there’s more than that. You keep your name secret for a reason. Is it part of the Code?” 

“Not technically. It’s just... a name gives you an identity. Something for your enemies to hold over you.”

“Alright. But you still haven’t answered my first question. Why would you tell it to _me_?” You’d admit to yourself that you wanted to know more about the Mandalorian. If you could just get under that tough exterior of his, maybe he’d open up more. But he wore figurative armor as strong as his Beskar. You also knew that you couldn’t force him to tell you what he was thinking and if you pried to much, you’d only push him further away. You just didn’t want to feel like you were living with a stranger. 

But apparently you’d hit the limit of what he was willing to talk about, at least for today, because he just got to his feet without a word. You thought he was just going to leave but he paused a moment, as if debating what to do. “Get some more rest. Once you’re better, we can get off this planet.” 

And with that, he was gone and you were alone again. You didn’t have the energy to be frustrated with him anymore. Even if you did, there’d be no point. You didn’t even know what answer you’d expected, but any answer was preferable over nothing. Though you had a feeling that the Mandalorian didn’t know the answer to your question any more than you did. 

You spent the next several minutes tossing and turning, but sleep evaded you. You thought about getting up and looking around the ship for something to do, but the Mandalorian probably wouldn’t be too happy if he found you. Besides, you had your end of the deal to uphold. He’d talked to you, a little bit anyway, and you’d agreed to keep resting. You wished you could just go to sleep for however many days it would take for you to be fully healed, but you couldn’t even go to sleep for a few minutes it seemed. 

Through the almost deafening silence of your room, you were able to pick up on the faintest shuffling coming from your doorway. You rolled over to see the child making his way over to you, staring at you with those big ol’ eyes of his. Every time you saw him, you understood more why the Mandalorian had sacrificed so much for the little one. 

When he reached the edge of your bunk, he didn’t even have to raise his arms for you to get the message. “Alright, up you go.” 

You carefully scooped him up with one arm and set him up on the bed with you. Laying on your side with your head propped up on a pillow, you were just about eye level with the child. It was strange, seeing him up close. You thought it was funny how his forehead was wrinkled and he had little white hairs, as if he were actually an old man. Maybe he’d grow out of it. 

“Din told me about you. Told me he’s looking for your home.” You’re voice was barely a whisper, not that it mattered. The child couldn’t understand you. Not your words, at least. You’d begun to believe there were other things, however, that he did understand. For now, though, you’d have to make due with a little one-sided conversation. 

“Do you even remember your home? You must remember at least a little, even if you can’t talk about it.” He cooed quietly and you chose to treat it as a response. 

“I guess you know it feels then. I wish I could go home too. Looks like we’ve got a lot in common, huh? Who knows, maybe you’re also the last of your kind.” You wished you hadn’t said that. Now that the words had come from your own mouth, there was no more denying it. You were the very last of your kind, and that fact made you suddenly feel more alone than you had in a long time, perhaps in your life. Sure, your planet had had its share of idiots and downright awful people, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss it. Vollalei may have just been a speck in what had just become a very large galaxy to you, but it also held everything you’d ever loved. To wake up one day and find out it was long gone, well, you’d been in denial for some time. You were certain that some trace of your civilization had to have survived out there somewhere, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

You became aware of the faint stinging behind your eyes but you managed to keep the tears at bay. There was something about the child’s presence that made you feel... calmer, for lack of a better word. You’d never been particularly fond of children before, but there was something about this one that was special. It wasn’t just that he was an alien. A very unique alien, for that matter. No, there was something else going on behind those soulful little eyes. Something you didn’t find in other children. Whatever it was, you felt drawn to him. You certainly understood why the Mandalorian was so keen on keeping him. 

With the little one contently tucked into the remaining space of your pillow, you let out a long yawn, not even realizing how much more tired you’d become. Within minutes, the sleep that had so long evaded you finally took over.

\- 

The Mandalorian hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, not at first. He’d been looking for the child and happened to pass by your room. He only stopped when he heard his name. You’d barely whispered it, but that single syllable had been loud and clear in his head. He’d caught a glimpse of you talking to the child and made the decision to leave. At least, he thought he did. Yet here he was, several minutes later, still standing just outside your door. 

Even he had seen that there was something about you that the kid was drawn to. Perhaps you had it right. Maybe you were both the last of your kind. Up until now, he’d refused to acknowledge such a possibility for the child. 

Once he was certain you were asleep, he leaned around the edge of the door frame. You were curled up about as small as you could get, with your knees pulled up and your arms close to your chest. It didn’t look like the most comfortable sleeping position. It’s not like you had to make room for the child. Even in the tiny bunk, there was plenty of space for the child left by your pillow. He was equally sound asleep. 

The Mandalorian normally didn’t like the kid falling asleep in random parts of the ship, opting to carry him back to his pod instead. But this seemed like a good exception. Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to wake the little guy, especially if there was a chance he would wake you as well. He could tell you weren’t sleeping well lately. 

So he decided to be on his way, but not before one more thing. At some point, you’d kicked your one blanket down to your feet, where it clearly didn’t do any good. The Mandalorian knew by now that you’d get cold without it, especially as it was approaching nightfall outside. And the Razor Crest’s insulation maybe wasn’t the best, though he’d never admit that out loud. 

So in a simple act of courtesy, the Mandalorian moved the blanket up over your shoulders as gently as he could, so as not to wake you or the child, and left you to your rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May have taken a few liberties in explaining the Code but that's what they get for not really explaining it better in the show (and a precursory google search didn't give me much either :/ )


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of feelings so hopefully it was worth the two-month wait

There was a strange feeling hanging in the air the next couple days. You weren’t sure quite what the feeling was but it felt... heavy. And it seemed stronger when the Mandalorian was in the room. He was tense, but that was normal for him. One of these days you feared he’d snap like a coiled spring. You wondered if he ever took a day off. 

Despite this, he’d been talking to you more. Not just out of necessity, either. He seemed to be making something of an effort to hold a conversation with you. Well, you wouldn’t call it ‘conversation’ exactly, but it was more than you usually got from him. He’d make small talk of sorts when you joined him in the cargo bay or found him going through his weapons. It was funny, for such an intimidating guy, he could sure be awkward. It was like he’d never held a conversation for more than two minutes before. But he was trying. 

It was nice and all, but you could tell he was getting antsy. You’d catch him cleaning his rifle when he’d just done so earlier in the day or taking count of supplies two, even three times in a row. You were getting better every day, and almost back to normal by now, but he still refused to leave. You tried to toughen up and say you were feeling fine again but your body betrayed you. You could only keep down a little bit of food at a time and just that morning you’d blacked out for a split second from standing up too fast and the next thing you knew, you were on the floor with a worried Mandalorian hovering over you. 

So when the Mandalorian approached you later in the evening while you were playing with the kid, you’d hoped he was going to say you were finally leaving. But between the way he carried himself entering the room and the slight forward tilt of his head when he looked at you, you could tell he didn’t have good news. 

“I need to leave the ship.” His tone was flatter than usual, as if his words were rehearsed. 

You got up from the floor where you’d been playing with the child, dusting off your knees and hands. “What, you mean here? Now?” 

“Yes. I need to go back to Kelan’s home. We need more information about this bounty on you and why more people haven’t come after us yet. Kelan must’ve had a contact or something.” The Mandalorian crossed his arms, suggesting this wasn’t a matter of argument. Unfortunately for him, that wouldn’t stop you from trying. 

“Well hang on, how do you know it’s safe? And what if something happens to the child while we’re gone?” 

“That’s why you’re staying here. Kelan’s dead, trust me. And if there was anyone else around, they would’ve come after us by now. I won’t be gone long.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed towards the weapons closet. 

You trailed close behind, a kick in your step and fire on your tongue. “What the hell, Mando? I thought we were past this ‘treating me like fragile cargo’ crap—“ 

He spun around so fast that you nearly crashed into him. His cape whipped around as he practically stomped his foot down, not in the mood to argue. “It’s not like that. Really, I just need you to stay here and watch the child.” 

You took a step back, recoiling from him. You had one foot forward and an arm raised slightly. Your eyes had gone wide and you shut your mouth, instinctually taking a defensive stance. The Mandalorian recognized the look from far too many occasions as that of ambushed prey. Realizing this, he took a step back and attempted to remedy the situation. He let his shoulders relax and softened his voice as best he could. “I’m sorry it’s just... this will be faster by myself instead of all three of us. And the sooner I get back, the sooner we can leave. I think it’s about time.”

You relaxed, crossing your arms. You were jumpy at the best of times, your numerous journeys as a stowaway leaving you with reflexes bordering on paranoia. You’d learned to always be in fight-or-flight mode and sometimes that still kicked in. You just nodded to the Mandalorian, sensing that it would be in everyone’s best interest to let the matter go. You turned to walk away but his voice stopped you in your tracks. You didn’t turn back to face him, instead merely turning your head to the side to acknowledge that you heard him. 

“I don’t want you to assume that I don’t think you can handle yourself out there, alright? I wouldn’t have given you a job if that were the case.” He meant it as a complement, or at the very least an explanation and you knew that. But still, the statement came off cold and you chose once again not to reply as you made your way out of the room. 

-

You watched from the cockpit as the Mandalorian got further from the ship, barely a speck on the ground as he trudged down the hill towards Kelan’s abode. The distinct silhouette of his rifle on his back stood out even in the evening light, the kind of smudgy darkness that turned everything blue and made objects fade into the blackness if you tried to look directly at them.

This was the first time you’d seen the planet’s surface at night, despite having been here for multiple days now. The Razor Crest had very little in terms of windows aside from the cockpit and a couple small ones in the cargo bay to let in a little bit of light, and you obviously hadn’t gone outside since that first day. This forest was even more active than the last one it seemed. With the ship’s engines off, you could just make out the sounds of chirping insects and croaking frogs hiding amongst the trees. Little white lights flitted along the ground below, the dances of dozens of tiny insects. Their shine against the blackness could almost be mistaken for stars, were they not moving so erratically. It made the ship feel even smaller, the walls practically closing in around you as you took in the peaceful scene outside. Oh, what you wouldn’t give just to lay silently in the grass for even five minutes and finally have some sense of calm. 

Sick of teasing yourself with the image of the outside, you turned to the child who’d somehow climbed up into the co-pilot seat while you weren’t looking. “Whatcha’ doing there, little guy?” You leaned back on the console, only mostly confident that you weren’t going to accidentally press any buttons. 

The child tilted his head as if to question you but didn’t make a sound otherwise. He didn’t even raise his arms to be picked up like normal. He simply watched you. 

“You got some big thoughts going on in there?” You poked the top of his head playfully and he squealed, his ears tilting back ever so slightly. You laughed and stepped over to him, picking him up anyway. 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” You tucked him comfortably into the crook of your arm. You’d finally become used to carrying him, no longer worried that you may accidentally drop or crush him out of pure clumsiness. His weight in your arms had become familiar and even comforting. 

You made your way to his his pod, the two of you silent as you tread through the ship, only the faint echo of your footsteps to be heard. You set him him down amongst his blankets expecting him to understand and just make himself comfortable, but naturally you weren’t that lucky. 

“Well, time to sleep now. I uh... I don’t know what else you want.” You had always been awkward with kids, only getting any real experience around one recently. The child just stared at you, eyes wide and clear. You didn’t know what the Mandalorian usually did to make the kid go to sleep and you were suddenly wishing you’d asked before he left the ship. You tugged the blankets up around the child, hoping that might coax him into closing his eyes at least. “Please won’t you sleep? Your dad won’t be happy with either of us if you stay up all night.” 

When it was clear that pleading would get you nowhere, you picked the child up once more and let him get comfortable in your arms. With a blanket wrapped around him, he seemed perfectly happy to be there, even letting out a yawn finally. Without realizing it, you began to sway ever so slightly, the rocking motion putting him to sleep even faster. You recalled what you could of your own childhood, the vague tune of some long-forgotten song coming to mind. You hummed it as best you could, your swaying falling into time with the slow melody. 

When the child seemed to finally be asleep, you placed him back in his pod as light as a feather, careful not to undo all the work you’d just done. Making sure the light was off, you slowly backed out of the room. You made sure to keep your steps silent until you got closer to the cockpit. 

You took your previous place in the pilot’s seat and decided to settle there for the evening. You wanted to see as soon as the Mandalorian was on his way back, although by now it was nearly pitch black outside. Even the glowing insects seemed to have turned in for the night, with only a handful still drifting lazily about. With little else to see, you decided you’d get more comfortable, turning to swing your legs over the armrest and letting your head hang back a bit. All that was between you and the night sky was the foggy glass dome of the cockpit. You began to count the stars in the hopes it might ease you to sleep. Rather than drift into unconsciousness, however, your mind shifted to more pressing things. 

The main thing keeping you awake, of course, was concern for the Mandalorian. You knew full well that your worry was for nothing, but it seemed your brain wouldn’t listen to reason. He should be completely safe right now, realistically speaking, but you couldn’t help but think back to Dagos’s ship. The Mandalorian had walked right back into the burning wreckage, straight into the maw of danger without so much as a second thought. A part of you felt responsible for not stopping him, and it was only through some sort of sheer cosmic luck that he’d come back alive.

Kelan’s now-empty abode was nothing like that ship of course, but you couldn’t help but worry that the Mandalorian was walking into danger anyway. And once again you were waiting behind. Maybe if you’d been this anxious the _first_ time you entered Kelan’s home, none of this mess would’ve happened. It’s just hard to be afraid of things when the Mandalorian’s by your side. That was something you’d definitely come to understand in the short time you’d travelled with him. 

It was weird to think exactly how long you’d been here. Your thoughts on the Mandalorian had changed drastically in such a short span of time but it may as well have been years. It sure _felt_ like a long time. And in that time, you’d gone from hostile strangers to trusted allies, or at least you liked to think so. The Mandalorian was willing to leave you completely alone with his child which you took as a sign of trust if there ever was one. 

It was almost as if your thoughts were being broadcast throughout the ship because as soon as you thought of the child, a small squeak sounded from the doorway. You turned to see the little one standing there, eyes glazed with what little sleep he’d gotten, looking as if he didn’t want to be woken up. Yet wake up he did, and he even made it all the way up to the cockpit on his own. You figured he couldn’t sleep either while his dad was away. 

You sighed, unable to find it in you to be even the slightest bit mad at the child. “Come here, you.” You picked him up, his mood immediately brightening and made yourself comfortable again. Refusing to use the seat as it was intended, your slightly awkward position turned out to be of benefit for the kid, who was more than happy to curl up against your stomach. You let one hand rest lightly on his small form just so you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling off by accident. In a matter of minutes, his eyes had drifted shut again. You only hoped it would stick this time. 

You weren’t sure how much longer the Mandalorian would be gone, but it was starting to look like it might be awhile. Between the late hour and the happily sleeping child on your lap, your anxiety was quickly easing into drowsiness. You figured it wouldn’t do any good to be exhausted when the Mandalorian returned, so you let yourself drift off for the time being. 

-

The information that the Mandalorian had garnered from Kelan’s home wasn’t much. In fact, it was barely a fraction of the info he’d been looking for. There were message logs between Kelan and someome else, but they were vague at best. What he did find out, however, he didn’t like and he knew you wouldn’t either. 

On the plus side, things had stayed quiet. Almost too quiet. The silence of the now-abandoned home had put him on edge. He was almost relieved when he got back outside, the sounds of the local wildlife serving as a reminder of the life that still dwelled on this planet, oblivious to the death that had occurred so recently. It was a nice change from the barren deserts and vacant wastelands he’d grown accustomed to over the years. 

The Mandalorian was surprised to find himself in silence once again upon boarding the Razor Crest. He was certain you’d be right there waiting for him to come back. You’d been so adamant on going with him after all. He was sure he’d arrive back to find you impatiently waiting at the top of the ramp, ready to give him an earful, no doubt. A part of him was almost... disappointed. For a moment, he remembered his days before the child had arrived in his life. Day after day he’d come back to an empty ship, either alone or with a bounty in tow, not that they were much for company. It made him wonder if perhaps he’d been taking his newfound companionship for granted. It wasn’t worth dwelling on, really. Not that the Mandalorian was the type to dwell on most things. His priority now was to find you and get as far away from this forsaken planet as possible. 

The ship was silent. Even the sound of his footsteps seemed to be absorbed into the air. It wasn’t a bad silence, though. Not the kind that weighed you down, clung to you like a fog. No, this was different. This was the silence of a world at rest. The kind that seemed to slow down time and leave you with a vague sense of peace. It wasn’t an experience the Mandalorian was accustomed to, that was for sure. 

For once he didn’t begin to panic when neither you nor the child turned up in his initial search of the ship. Naturally he was bound to find you in the last place he looked. He reached the doorway, entering the cockpit ready to give you the low-down on what he’d found at Kelan’s, but froze in his tracks. You were fast sleep in the pilot’s chair, curled up in a less-than-comfortable position. The chair really wasn’t meant for sleeping in. The child was sound asleep as well, safely resting on your lap. 

He knew he needed to wake you up if you wanted to get off this planet any time soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It felt as though his boots were welded to the floor, trapping him in place. He couldn’t wake you up when you looked so peaceful and even more importantly, he was too transfixed by the sight in front of him. The child clearly felt safe and happy with you and you obviously cared for the little one nearly as much as he did. The word _‘family’_ surfaced in his thoughts, singular and sudden. Internally he panicked just a bit, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe he really was turning soft...

Keen on moving along, he forced himself to move forward, uprooting himself from his thoughts as well as his position. He paused a moment, not sure what the appropriate way to wake you would be. He settled on placing a hand on your shoulder, gently trying to shake you awake. He repeated your name a couple times when you seemed to stir, though you were reluctant to open your eyes. 

“Jus— lemme sleep... a little longer.” You tried to turn away from him in your half-asleep state, but the confines of the chair prevented you from moving much. The Mandalorian repeated your name once more, a little firmer this time, and the urgency seemed to finally break through the clouds around your mind. Your eyes blinked open and you glanced around briefly before settling your gaze on the Mandalorian. 

“Oh, hey. Oh—!” You shot to your feet, disrupting the still mostly-asleep child as you shifted him into your arms. “You’re back!” You couldn’t hide the relief in your voice even if your mind was still sleep-clouded. A very small part of you wanted to throw your arms around the Mandalorian, just happy to see him home safe. But you didn’t think he’d appreciate that. Not to mention you might just die of embarrassment. But the thought was appealing nonetheless. Luckily, there was a child in your arms, preventing you from doing any such thing. 

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever coming back. I’d be kinda stuck here if you didn’t.” You tried to laugh, but your humor was wasted on the Mandalorian. That, or he simply didn’t find the idea particularly funny. You figured that might be the case. “Heh, sorry. Bad joke.” 

“No it’s— I’m sorry. To worry you, I mean. I didn’t think I’d be away that long.” The Mandalorian held out his arms, silently offering to take the child. You obliged, happily handing over the little one to his dad. 

“Well, did you find anything? Useful, that is?” You crossed your arms and stepped away from the pilot’s seat. 

The Mandalorian nodded. “Kelan had an Imperial contact, as expected. I found message logs between the two of them. Unfortunately, the contact’s identity was concealed. We have no idea who Kelan was talking to.” 

You leaned back on the co-pilot’s seat, not really surprised by the information. “Well that’s not surprising. Is that all you found?” 

“No. It’s true the Imps have a bounty on you right now, but it’s different. They kept it old-fashioned. No tracking fob, nothing. They’re not even working with the Guild this time. All information on you is by word-of-mouth only.”

“Well that’s good, isn’t it? We know they’re not tracking us and there’s fewer people who even known I exist.” 

“Yes and no. It’s safe to assume they’re not tracking you, yes, or else we’d have dealt with far more trouble by now. But it also means they’ve gotten smart. They don’t want another case like this one,” he looked down at the child in his arms who remained blissfully unaware of the situation at hand.

“It’s a little late for that,” you chimed in. You were aware of the similarities between your story and the child’s. Both escapees taken in by a benevolent Mandalorian. Maybe he just had a habit of bringing in strays, or maybe there was more to it. 

“I suppose, technically, yes. Anyway, they most likely know you’re with me. At the very least, Kelan would’ve told them you’re with a Mandalorian, and it’s not a far stretch to figure out which one.” 

“Alright, so what’s the plan now?” you asked. 

“We head to Nevarro.” The Mandalorian placed the child in his seat before taking in own place in the pilot’s chair. 

“What’s on Nevarro?” You settled into the co-pilot seat, ready to be off this planet. 

“Allies.” That was all the answer you needed, and no less than you expected from the Mandalorian. He got the engines started, the humming under your feet sending a faint shiver up your spine. You’d gotten antsy over the past few days and were impatient to be back in open space. Something about the vastness of the skies made you feel... safer, almost. Like no one could ever find you out there. If only that were true. 

The thin trees outside swayed in the gale created by the ship, bending nearly to the point of snapping. You watched as they shrank until they were just one massive swath of green. You didn’t need a warning this time as the ship made the jump to hyperspace. 

After a moment for the ship to settle, the Mandalorian turned to you. “Now would be a good time to get some rest. I imagine you didn’t get the best sleep in this chair.” 

“Well, you’re right about that.” You stretched as you stood before making your way to your bunk, completely in agreement for once. 

-

You woke to something soft brushing your skin, just barely grazing you. You opened your eyes to a brilliant orange sky, the first stars beginning to poke through the fiery curtain. You sat up surrounded by a sea of wild grass. You weren’t sure where exactly you were but it felt almost painfully familiar. Like an answer on the tip of your tongue, so close but still out of reach. 

You stood up, noticing the edges of your vision blurred as if the world around you disappeared when you looked away. On top of that, your head felt clouded. You couldn’t quite grasp onto any particular thought. Yet despite all that, you felt calm. You knew that wherever you were, you were safe. 

A voice called your name from the distance, reaching through the fog in your head and grabbing hold of you. You couldn’t quite recognize the voice either but you clung to it, letting it guide you. As the grass parted, you saw a lake. A shimmering smooth mirror reflecting the last of the sun’s light. A figure stood by the shore, the source of the voice no doubt. You tried to run toward them but it felt like running through water. Your muscles slowed and it took all your strength just to take a single step. Soon enough, the blurriness around your vision turned to darkness until it engulfed you completely. 

Your eyes opened to the darkness of your bunk. In the last moments of your dream you hadn’t been afraid, merely frustrated. You knew now what the dream was. It was a memory of home, of Vollalei. Not a particularly eventful one, either. Just a day by the lake, somewhere you went on a number of occasions. You hadn’t been there in a long time, even by your count. You weren’t sure why it of all places would make it into your dreams. 

You tried to roll over and go back to sleep, patiently waiting for the dream to fade away but it refused. Unlike your usual dreams, this one decided to stick in your memory. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was familiar and calming, which made it all the more bothersome now that you were awake. The thought of home was dredging up more things that you’d rather remain dormant. You thought you were over this by now. 

And once you started missing home again, all your other problems began to surface at the same time. Every negative feeling you’d been repressing over the last few weeks was bubbling up. The past few days’ events must’ve just been the final straw. Tears stung the backs of your eyes and you refused to let them fall, angry with yourself at the mere idea. There were too many thoughts racing through your head, many wordless and all of them unpleasant. It was all just too much. You wanted to scream. You _needed_ to scream. In fact, you’d do just that. 

You couldn’t risk the Mandalorian hearing you. That was something you didn’t want to have to explain even if you did have the words to do so. So you picked up the flat cushion that passed for a pillow, took a deep breath, and buried your face in it, letting out all your frustration in one muffled shout. It was childish at best, but it had always been your go-to way of dealing with things. Sometimes it made you feel better, sometimes it didn’t. It looked like this time would be the latter. 

Before you had a chance to resume your troubles, however, the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard heading rapidly toward your room. 

“What the hell happened?” The Mandalorian appeared in your doorway, still clad in full armor, cape and all. You figured he would’ve taken it off by now to sleep. Unless of course, he’d been awake all night. 

“W-what are you doing here?” You looked at him like he was insane, like there was absolutely no reason he would be here right now. 

“You yelled.” He glanced around the small room as if expecting some kind of imminent danger. 

“There’s _no way_ you could hear me from your room.” You knew where his bunk was. You had taken a calculated risk and were basically certain that the sound wouldn’t reach him, not through a pillow. Unless, of course, he wasn’t in his bunk to begin with. You could just barely make out his visor in the dark of the room, but it felt like his gaze was boring into you, searching for answers. Answers you didn’t have right now. You were about to tell him off, but his next words caught you off guard. 

“Are you alright?” He hesitated, unsure of whether or not he was crossing some kind of line. Boundaries weren’t really his strong suit after all. Well, making them was, bridging them wasn’t. His wariness was clear enough in just his voice. It was the softest you’d ever heard him, even with the child. Were it just a little darker, you’d think it was someone else in the room asking you that. 

“I’m fine. Just go back to bed.” You almost felt bad sending him away like that, but what else were you going to do? What could he possibly do to help? He couldn’t make your dreams go away, couldn’t get rid of the memories. Not like you wanted him to anyway. He couldn’t fix the dozen other things weighing on you either. And you refused to let this become his problem. 

He turned to leave but stopped, compelled by some long-dormant sense of compassion. “If you need to talk... I’ll listen.” 

You knew he was offering a lot. The Mandalorian wasn’t one to, well, talk. Not about these sorts of things. But he was willing to do so for you. But you just couldn’t bring the words to mind to tell him what was going on. 

“Thank you but I don’t want to bother you with this.“ You looked down at your hands, idly fiddling with the blanket. 

“Really I— It’s important to me that you’re okay.” The room fell silent again. The Mandalorian was frozen in place, something that was becoming common around you. 

You could feel how wide your eyes were, more from his words than the dark. You hoped he didn’t have night-vision in that helmet, but doubted you were so lucky. At this point, you couldn’t refuse his offer even if you wanted to. Not when he went and said things like that. “I suppose it would be nice to get some things off my chest.” 

The Mandalorian nodded and took a seat in the chair by your bunk. The same one you’d found him in when you first woke up after returning from Kelan’s. You wondered if this was turning into a regular thing. Hopefully not, given the circumstances. 

You sighed, silently asking how you got yourself into this situation. “This is insane.” You ran your hands over your face and through your hair, briefly obscuring your grimace. “I can’t just dump all my problems on you. I should be able to handle this myself but I just... _can’t_.” You clenched and unclenched your fists repeatedly, trying to release some tension. 

The Mandalorian looked down and you feared you’d made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t the most emotionally open of all people, and you figured this sort of thing wasn’t in his wheelhouse. But there was too much going on in your head and you needed to let it out. Unfortunately, there was no one else talk to. He was likely the only soul in the galaxy you could trust. Other than the child of course, but he wouldn’t be much good in a situation like this. 

“I know I’m not... the easiest person to talk to,” the Mandalorian spoke softly, turning to face you. His demeanor had shifted completely from the last time the two of you spoke in this room. “But I want to help. And if this is what I can do, then so be it.” 

You nodded, giving him a solemn smile. “It’s just that ever since I woke up, everything has been... _overwhelming_. I still can’t wrap my head around this whole new galaxy. Not to mention literally everyone I know is— is gone.” 

The Mandalorian wanted to say something, anything to convey that he understood at least a little. But he couldn’t find the words. That was something he’d never been good at. 

“I just can’t take it sometimes. There’s barely been a day since I woke up that I wasn’t in some kind of danger. I’m just... not _built_ for this. I didn’t realize it at the time but my life back home was easy. Now, I’m almost always at least a little bit sick or sore or tired, yet I can’t get a good nights sleep. I’ve lost all sense of time. Not to mention the pressure of being _hunted_. I don’t know how you do it, Mando! It’s all just... _too much_.” Your hands shook, an action beyond your control. You dug your fingers into your scalp as if it would keep you grounded in your own head. You didn’t even notice the Mandalorian had moved until your hands were being gently pulled away. 

He knelt in front of you, not saying a word. Sitting on your bunk, your legs swung over the edge, you were looking down at him. You didn’t resist his grip on your wrists, though you could’ve escaped it easily. His goal wasn’t to restrain you. 

The Mandalorian didn’t have the words to give you. He knew _what_ to say, just not _how_. So rather than blather on and just hope that his message got across, he figured he would try to show you instead. He would show you that he cared and that he didn’t pity or think less of you. This life was an extremely difficult one and you’d been thrust into it in the worst possible way. When he looked at you struggling like this, he remembered himself back when he’d first sworn the Creed. 

The silence between you stretched on for longer than you could be bothered to measure, but neither of you seemed to notice. You couldn’t look away from the steely gleam of that helmet. Under normal circumstances you’d look away, pretend not to be bothered by that stare, but now you were lost in it. You felt like you could read his intentions better than any facial expression could convey. When the Mandalorian stood up, finally letting your hands drop from his, you took in a sharp breath. 

“You should try to sleep,” he said, stoic and calm as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Or at the very least, like they hadn’t affected him. However, you could sense a new hidden softness in his tone. 

“What’s the point? It won’t do me any good.” You pulled your knees up onto the bunk, tucking them close to your chest and rested your chin on your knee dejectedly. 

“I know that feeling.” He turned his face toward the door but didn’t make a move to leave. “I have an idea.” He gestured for you to follow him, waiting for you to get to your feet before making his way out the door. 

You followed him without question, practically tripping on his heels as you traversed the darkened ship. What little light there was reflected off his armor, casting him in a pale blue light. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked like a ghost. Although you’d seen crazier things than spirits lately. 

Not a word was spoken all through the ship, until at last you reached the cockpit. The hazy glow of hyperspace filled the room, the shifting pattern making you feel like you were underwater. It was simultaneously dizzying and mesmerizing. 

“Hang on.” You almost missed the Mandalorian’s mumbled warning, your focus on the extra-dimensional terrain outside. You only noticed that he had taken his seat in the pilot’s chair when you hurriedly grabbed onto the side of it for support as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. 

“What are you doing?” You looked out at the sea of stars but saw no planets or points of interest whatsoever. Just an endless spattering of white. It wouldn’t be exaggerating to say the sight was as breathtaking now as it was the first time you saw it. You thought you might never grow tired of it. 

“We’re safe, I promise. We’re just drifting. I thought this might help you relax or... something.” He recalled the first time the two of you had been in the cockpit together, the look of awe on your face when you saw the field of stars outside. He hoped that just maybe, he might be able to bring some of that feeling back.

You were surprised he’d think of something like this. It was a very personal gesture, something he would only think to do if he’d been actively paying attention to you. Not that you thought he wasn’t, you just didn’t think he’d actually do something for the sake of your enjoyment. This was a pleasant surprise. “Well, you thought right. This might just be what I need.” 

You bypassed the chair entirely, opting to sprawl out on the floor of the cockpit instead, letting the view of space outside drift overhead. The floor was hard and cold, but it hardly bothered you. You let one hand rest on your stomach and the other under your head, giving you something of a cushion at least. But it didn’t matter how uncomfortable it may be, the view made it better than your bunk any day.

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure what to do at this point. You seemed happier now, or at least calmer. It was safe to say his idea had worked. It felt wrong for him to leave, yet he didn’t know what he should do here either. Now, the Mandalorian was anything but hesitant in his work. Even a second of delay could get him killed in the field. But now he was second-guessing himself repeatedly, frozen in place by his own indecisiveness. You looked almost as though you’d forgotten he was even there, or at least you were unconcerned with him. 

This was already a night filled with new territory for him, which may be what compelled his next actions. Careful not to cross the already-blurred boundaries between you two, he took a seat on the floor by your side, maybe an arm’s length away. He did as you did, albeit remaining upright, watching the stars overhead silently. At first it was underwhelming but after a few moments of silence, with only the hum of the ship and the steady sound of your breathing to remind him that he was awake, a new feeling began to set in. The Mandalorian felt his heart rate slow ever so slightly as a sense of calm began to settle over him. It was a gradual change, but soon he found himself mimicking you further, shifting to lay down while still conscious of the distance between you. 

You turned your head toward him, the first acknowledgment of his presence since you laid down. “Thank you, Din.” Your voice was barely a whisper. The only indication you had that he’d heard you was the faintest tension that went into his shoulders. You needed no response nor did you expect one. You were content as things were at this very moment. So content, in fact, that not long after you turned back toward the stars above, your eyes drifted slowly closed, as lazy as the purring engines.

Despite the peace of the moment, the tiniest of dark clouds pricked at the back of your thoughts. Even the Mandalorian’s name had tasted bittersweet on your tongue. The two of you were confidants, certainly, but lately your mind had begun to... _wander_ past that point in your relationship. Perhaps it was the knowledge that you could trust him wholeheartedly, or the frequent life-and-death experiences, or even just the close-quarters living arrangement, but you found yourself wanting— hoping for _more_. 

The Mandalorian was a complicated man and there was a lot that you didn’t know about him, but you wanted to. It wasn’t just out of morbid curiosity anymore. You couldn’t deny that you cared about him. And you could tell he cared about you, but likely not in the same capacity. You kept these thoughts to a minimum, trying to letting them fade as suddenly as they appeared. You could entertain the idea of the two of you being together for a brief moment, but the conclusion would always be the same. It just wasn’t possible. You strongly doubted that he was the type for a relationship of that sort. His lifestyle wasn’t particularly conducive to it, for one thing. But mainly he just didn’t seem like he wanted anything like that in his life. He had his child and that seemed like plenty of attachment for him. Besides, even if you were completely wrong and he _did_ feel that way, there was also the matter of the Code. You didn’t understand it much, but with rules like ‘never let anyone see your face,’ you had a feeling relationships were tricky if not outright prohibited. 

There was no use putting energy into these thoughts. You would only make yourself feel worse. So instead, you would push the intruding feelings to the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let them ruin a moment like this. For now, you could at least take comfort in the Mandalorian’s presence. You drifted off to sleep feeling truly safe for the first time in a very long time. 

The mention of his name left the Mandalorian frozen once again. He didn’t understand how your simple whisper held more power over him than any enemy he’d fought in all his years. And that was just one of the puzzles about you. 

As if the universe were playing some great game with the two of you, it decided to put the Mandalorian in yet another predicament. Now fully asleep, you lazily rolled onto your side in a subconscious effort to get more comfortable. Not only were you now facing the Mandalorian, but you just so happened to roll onto his cape and right into his personal space, effectively trapping him in place. His breath hitched, feeling as if a circuit in his brain had skipped a signal. 

The past couple days had been... _confusing_ for the Mandalorian. There were a lot of thoughts racing through his mind in regards to you but rather than try to sort them out, he opted to push them away and hope they would go away. He just wanted things to be simple, but he was far too good at making life more complicated, both for himself and others. You were no exception. 

He’d long since resigned himself to a life of solitude, a not-uncommon choice for Mandalorians. In his life he’d had too many experiences being stabbed in the back. Even when he did find someone genuinely good, he put them in danger. The child was both an example and an exception to this rule. The young one was exposed to far too many life-threatening situations on a regular basis, but unfortunately that would likely not change were he not in the Mandalorian’s care.

But even though the child had been allowed such an important position in his life, the Mandalorian was still certain that this other sort of companionship was off the table. You were important to him of course, but anything more than a valued crew member would mean treading some dangerous waters for both of you. To top it off, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of feeling that way anymore. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to _know_ you, and to keep you around. But that would be a two-way street. You’d already learned more about him in a short span than most people he meets learn in a lifetime. He was afraid of how far you might delve. You may not like what you found. 

That may be the ultimate thing stopping him from acting further. He feared you wouldn’t be happy, that you may ask too much of him. The rules of the Code were strict, meaning you could still never see his face. That was a line that could never be crossed. And if that wasn’t enough of a dealbreaker already, he also may just not be able to make you happy. You clearly weren’t happy with this life and you didn’t deserve to have it thrust upon you. 

No, the life you deserved was one far away from here, where you could live without fear of the Imperials. Someday, maybe even soon, that may be possible. With the Empire fallen, it was only a matter of time before their agents finally scattered. But bounty-hunting was a lifelong gig, and it usually wasn’t a long life. He’d set on this path a long time ago, but it wasn’t too late for you to get out of it. He’d been thinking about this for a little while now. What he really wanted to do was set you and the child up somewhere safe for good. You took good care of the little one and with no signs of finding his home planet, this may be the best option. And as much as it may pain the Mandalorian, it was vital that he be out of the picture. Unfortunately, the galaxy wasn’t a safe enough place right now, and it may never be. Not to mention that his whole plan was far easier said than done. So for the time being, the Mandalorian could only hope to protect you with his own two hands, even though you protested. 

Tossing all that aside, however, the Mandalorian could allow himself the slightest bit of comfort here and now. Effectively pinning him in place via his cape, you were close enough that he could just barely feel the heat radiating off of your body, at least where the beskar didn’t directly cover. If he moved even the slightest, the metal would hit the floor with a faint ‘ _clink_ ,’ forcing him to freeze once more for fear of waking you. Luckily, the Mandalorian was no stranger to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, although he doubted whether or not sleep would be possible under these circumstances. 

He knew he shouldn’t be okay with this, not if he wanted to maintain some distance from you, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake you. He told himself that was the sole reason, refusing any selfish motivation. Mentally he repeated your voice speaking his name again, whether he wanted to hear it or not. He still wasn’t quite sure where he stood on that. But for tonight, he could be okay with this, with all of this. He could silence his worries long enough to let you rest and perhaps do the same. Just for one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to read parts of the Star Wars wiki for this so I hope you're happy (though I'm honestly happy with how it turned out, I just like complaining)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very fun to write, sorry it took so long. Wound up adding a whole extra scene when I actually remembered Mando has a jet pack now 
> 
> Also I have to post this from my phone cause I don’t have internet rn so apologies if formatting is weird. If it is, I’ll fix it when I have WiFi again

You surfaced from your unconscious state just long enough the notice the gentle rocking motion around you, like the smooth swaying of a ship at sea. In your sleep-addled mind, you think that space is a sea of sorts, albeit a different kind. It’s only after the disorientation gives way that you begin to wonder exactly where you are. 

You open your eyes partway, reluctant to wake but intent on an explanation. Your face is pressed close to metal, warmed to a more comfortable temperature by the heat of your body and briefly you think you must still be on the floor of the cockpit. But the surface is too shiny and clean. Without moving your head, you see the familiar silhouette of a beskar chest plate. As the feeling returns to your limbs, you realize you are being lifted, carefully supported under your knees and back. You were too tired to be embarrassed that the Mandalorian was holding you so tenderly, instead letting your eyes drift shut again before he could notice you stirring. You tilted your head further into his chest as best you could with the armor between you, only faintly aware of your hair brushing his unarmored neck. 

Despite the surprising comfort of being carried by a man in armor, you remained awake, your mind back up to speed with the real world. It was clear that you were back in hyperspace. The low sound of the engines hummed throughout the entire ship. You made an active effort to remain limp and even slow your breathing in the hopes that the Mandalorian would not notice. You nearly dropped the facade, however, when you felt yourself gently lowered onto your bunk and the heat of the Mandalorian slip away. The blanket was at your feet, having been kicked there in your sleep as usual. You wished for it in the now-cold room but hardly had the time to debate giving up your ruse before it was pulled up over your shoulders, as if the Mandalorian were reading your thoughts. 

You expected to hear him leave but were greeted only by silence for a brief moment before you felt a weight at the edge of the bed. You couldn’t see him but you could tell he was seated on the edge, just behind your back. In that moment you desperately wanted to say something to him, anything at all, but you didn’t have the words. As much as a part of you wanted to, it’s not like you could ask him to stay. But anything at all to keep him around for even a few more seconds would be better than the silence. 

It was only a minute or so before you felt his weight lift from the bed and your chance began slipping away. Yet you remained frozen. He placed a hand on your arm for just a moment, his touch as light as a feather, and you took it as a sign. As he moved towards the door, the only thing that came to mind was his name. 

“Goodnight, Din,” you whisper. He paused for barely a second before leaving without a response. You questioned whether or not he heard you, his helmet perhaps not picking up such a quiet register, but you’d likely never know the answer. 

——

You woke up in what felt like the early morning, surprisingly refreshed given that you spent an undetermined amount of time sleeping on a metal floor. So refreshed, in fact, that you didn’t even feel the usual urge to stay in your bunk and try unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, which had become your usual routine. 

You figured if you were starting the day off right for once, you may as well grab something to eat. You passed through the small kitchen space, grabbing a quick bite. Since you’d restocked, your options were better than the nutrient bars from the other day but not by much. Ration meals were cheap and instant but pretty much all tasted the same. So you ate your portion quickly and went on your way. 

You weren’t looking forward to another day of aimlessly wandering the ship in boredom. You were literally traveling at faster-than-light speed, so why couldn’t it be just a _little faster_? It really put into perspective just how _big_ the galaxy was. It also explained how Din was such a patient person, most of the time anyway, if he spent this much time just traveling. 

After the past few days of basically loitering, it was time to put yourself to good use around here. You considered yourself a mediocre babysitter and only a marginally better fighter, but you could be a damn good technician. Besides, it would be a good chance to get accustomed to some of the galaxy’s more ‘modern’ tech than you were used to, though the Razor Crest was hardly state-of-the-art. It may as well be to you, though. Everything you remembered was from a century ago. 

There was a busted door in the cargo hold that you figured you could take a look at. Something was wrong with the wiring. Half of the time it wouldn’t open automatically when it was supposed to and the other half it would just open randomly. Din had decided it wasn’t an immediate problem and just shoved a small crate in the doorway to prop it open all the time. You’d almost wiped out tripping on the damn thing on multiple occasions so now seemed as good of a time as any to fix it. You used to reprogram _robots_ for stars’ sake, you could handle an automatic door. 

After a few minutes of digging around for the toolbox, you made yourself comfortable seated in front of the electrical panel that controlled most of the mechanisms in the cargo hold. You popped the hatch open and couldn’t help the almost _offended_ look that crossed your face. You were face-to-face with a veritable rats nest of wires and plugs, seemingly no organization put into the system whatsoever. 

Look, Din no doubt knew what he was doing, that much you were sure of. But there was no way this was the safest or most efficient way to sort things. It was a miracle that the lights were even working in here. Luckily, none of these were connected to any critical ship functions so it should be perfectly fine to fiddle with in hyperspace. It would just be tedious. 

——

The Mandalorian only made his way to the cargo hold when a light came up on the dash of the cockpit, alerting him to unusual electrical activity. It wasn’t an emergency by any means but he’d check it out anyway. Hopefully it wasn’t the ventilation acting up again. He’d just fixed that the other day. 

He heard your curses before he saw you, recognizing the familiar signs of frustration in your voice. He stepped through the broken doorway just in time to avoid nearly being crushed by the damn thing. Without warning, the door tried to slam shut, only halted by the crate that now strained under the pressure. Before he could do anything, however, the door flew back open as quickly as it had closed. 

He turned to find you surrounded by discarded parts and tools, the circuit board to the electrical panel pulled out from the wall and held close to your face. It was still wired into the system and countless other cords seemed to fall loosely around the panel with no clear connections. You were deep in concentration as you fiddled with the tiniest parts with some kind of specialized tool, mumbling expletives all the while. 

Your hair was ruffled and you wore a sleeveless undershirt, your jacket and pullover tossed aside haphazardly. Normally you were cold on the ship since Din purposely kept the temperature low (he wore full armor all the time, of course he was warm), but you’d worked up a sweat fighting with the difficult mechanism. Suddenly, the circuit sparked again, catching your face ever so slightly. You cursed at the pain and looked up, finally noticing the bemused Mandalorian leaning by the door. 

“What are you doing?” His tone suggested that he was fully aware of what you were doing but wanted to hear you explain yourself anyway. 

“Destroying your ship, what does it look like?” You turned your attention back to the panel, refusing to be bested by the _simplest_ of machines. It wasn’t your fault it was old and stubborn.

“And how’s that going for you?” The Mandalorian moved to stand behind you and watch you work. You didn’t have any better success with an audience. 

“Just _fantastic_ ,” You growled in frustration and threw down what was in your hands, closing your eyes and letting out a long breath as you rested your hands behind your head. 

“You see why I just put the crate in the way? I knew it would take time to fix.” 

You glared at Din out of the corner of your eye, not appreciating the somewhat condescending tone. “I’ve got nothing _but_ time. Besides, I should easily be able to repair a freaking _door_.” 

“You’re just out of practice. Why don’t you take a break?” He rested a hand on your bare shoulder which you resisted the urge to shrug off in embarrassment.

“I don’t _want_ to take a break. I spent the last three days doing nothing. I’m going to go crazy if I don’t find something useful to do around here.” You craned your neck slightly to look up at him. “How do you not die of boredom out here?”

Din crossed his arms, trying not to look too amused by your current state. “You get used to it.” 

“That’s real helpful, thanks.” 

“You just need to find ways to keep busy,” he said, offering a hand and helping you to your feet. “Preferably ones that don’t involve dismantling my ship. You know, it would probably help you sleep better too. If you’re active during the day, you’ll fall asleep easier at night.”

“There’s no night and day in space,” you smirked. You were in a surprisingly snarky mood. Days of being cooped up would do that to a person. 

“Your body doesn’t know that. It’s still following a pattern.” He ignored your snide comments, letting it slide since you were frustrated. 

“So what can I do to burn off some energy around here?” You released the tension in your shoulders, letting the attitude drop as well. Din was only trying to be helpful, after all. You didn’t possibly know what he’d have in mind. The ship was cramped and didn’t exactly have a lot of room for physical activity. But he must have some sort of routine around here in order to keep up his physical condition. 

“Well, I’ve got one idea.”

——

The cargo hold felt significantly larger with all the crates pushed aside. You’d made an open space in the center of the room, plenty big enough for what Din had planned. 

Sparring wasn’t really what you’d expected, but it wasn’t a bad idea. A little training would do you some good and you got to let off steam at the same time. At Din’s insistence, you’d wrapped your hands in a thick gauze for protection, though you had doubts about how effective it would be. 

“This is hardly fair. You’ve still got your armor on. You’re going to mop the floor with me!” you whined. It was obvious he had no plans of going easy on you. If you weren’t careful, you might just break a hand hitting him. Hopefully, he would make sure that didn’t happen. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you just because we’re training. I’m not the only one in the galaxy with armor, you know. And others may not be so friendly.” The last part was his idea of a joke, but he couldn’t tell if you’d caught it or not. Humor wasn’t his strong suit, just as combat wasn’t yours.

“I bet I could burn through it easily.” You flexed your hands, letting your power flow to your palms for just a second. It was only in jest of course, but it was also the closest you could probably get to intimidating the Mandalorian.

He watched the light fade from your palms nervously, just imagining how easily you could destroy his very, _very_ expensive Beskar. “Let’s not test that.” 

You shrugged as if you’d actually been considering it, though you knew how valuable the metal was, both in a monetary sense and a sentimental one. It was clear that your demeanor was more playful than serious. 

Din raised his hands to about chest-level, flat palms facing you. “Let’s start by seeing how hard you can hit.”

You put yourself in what you thought was a good fighting stance, fists at the ready. Din gave no indication otherwise, so you figured you were right. “You just want me to hit you?”

“As hard as you can.” His tone was serious. He didn’t want you holding back. 

“Okay...” Your voice didn’t convey confidence, your instincts all telling you _not_ to punch your friend as hard you could even if he was telling you too. After a couple seconds to psych yourself up, you drew back your dominant arm and landed a hit firmly on the Mandalorian’s hand. He hardly even recoiled as if he‘d barely felt it. He may not have moved but the action definitely did some damage to your ego. You swore you used to be stronger. You blamed the days of being cooped up with nothing to do. 

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Surprisingly, his voice was calm with no intention of taunting you. Yet somehow, his level-headedness was only more aggravating. 

“Hang on, hang on.” You rolled your shoulder in preparation, intent on making an impact this time. You may not have prior training, but you’d be damned if you let Din think you couldn’t fight. You adjusted your stance as necessary and wound up for another shot. This time when the blow struck, Din recoiled considerably and he slid his foot back to stay balanced. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a bit proud of yourself with that one. 

“Definitely better, much better.” If there was one thing he remembered from his time spent training to become a Mandalorian, it was not to underestimate the power of positive reinforcement. A firm hand was necessary sometimes, but a little encouragement could also go a long way. “Let’s try something else now. Try to knock me down, however you can.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “However I can?” 

“No powers!” He added quickly, realizing you would very much take the opportunity to use your powers if it meant beating him. He didn’t imagine you’d try to hurt him, at least on purpose, but the point of the exercise was to broaden your skill set. It wasn’t that he was too prideful to let you knock him down. In fact, he’d be pleasantly surprised if you were able to, though he highly doubted it. 

“Aw, come on!” You wanted to at least stand a _chance_ against the Mandalorian but it wasn’t looking like he was going to give you that luxury. 

“What if you’re in a situation where you can’t use them?”

“And how, exactly, do you suppose that would happen?” You gestured as you spoke, emphasizing your point. 

“Hopefully we’ll never have to find out. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.” With that, he was done talking. He took a defensive stance, bracing himself for whatever you threw at him. You took it as a taunt. 

Frustrated with his stoic attitude, you did the one thing you could think of that could possibly take him down. You practically charged him, closing the space between you with surprising speed. Not surprising enough, however, as he simply dodged out of the way of your attack. You stopped yourself from colliding with a crate at the last second, using the momentum to turn and take a swing at him. Once again, he dodged you almost effortlessly, sending your frustration careening into fury. 

You didn’t tolerate bring made a fool of, though in the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t his goal. Your pride still got the better of you, however, as you became more focused on simply taking the Mandalorian down rather than thinking of a smart way to actually do that. You swung at him almost blindly, desperately willing just one hit to land but no such luck. 

After a few moments, Din switched from dodging your attacks to actively blocking them instead. It was more of challenge for you but he wanted to simulate a real fight as much as possible without hurting you. There was strength in your attacks for sure but no strategy. He could tell you were relying too much on emotion and not enough on thought, which could get you killed out in the field. It had taken him years to fully learn that lesson himself. 

He caught your arm mid-swing, not missing the look that crossed your face. You used the opportunity to twist out of his grasp, catching him by surprise and _just barely_ missing a kick that would’ve knocked the wind out of him. You let your confidence go too far, however, and made a critical mistake. 

You’d spun around too far, leaving yourself wide open as you attempted to maintain your balance. Before you could even fully process what happened, you found yourself on your back on the hard floor, all the air knocked from your lungs just as your legs had been knocked out from under you. You were still wheezing when the Mandalorian knelt down beside you, one hand calmly draped over his knee. He barely even looked out of breath which was possibly the most insulting part of the whole thing. 

“Not bad, but you can’t just attack blindly. Every single move needs to be calculated.” Even his voice remained calm. 

_Oh, you’d show him calculated_. 

He’d barely finished his sentence before you took your chance, sensing his guard was down. With lightning-fast reflexes, you swung your leg behind his knee with as much force as you could muster. That was when you realized just how badly you’d screwed up. Just as it looked like you’d finally gotten him, he proved you wrong. 

He’d seen your attack coming a mile away, fully expecting you to pull some sort of ‘surprise’ maneuver. Instead, you had put yourself in the perfect position for a counter attack. Using the very knee you’d tried to knock down, he pinned your leg you’d swung at him, using his weight as leverage to keep your other leg pinned as well. You swung out wildly with your hands, nearly striking him with your powers in shock as your instincts kicked into defense mode, all aggression dissipating. You couldn’t have hit him if you tried, however, as his hands flew to your wrists, pinning them hard to the floor above your head. 

There was a short moment of quiet as you processed what had just happened. Both of you were breathing heavily and you were too in shock to even realize you’d managed to give him an actual fight, however briefly. 

“See, that... that was good. You uh, you almost had me.” Din’s face was inches from yours. Your lips were parted slightly and eyes wide in surprise beneath him. The sight nearly stunned him speechless. He tried not to think about how heavy your breathing was or the sweat that glistened on your skin or the heat you radiated that he could feel even through his gloves. Stars, you were like a _sun_. How could you radiate so much heat and always be so cold?

You tried to come up with something witty in response but your brain was short-circuiting. Din hadn’t been this close to you since you’d been pinned beneath the rubble of Dagos’s ship, but that was a _very_ different situation. This time he was the only thing you had to focus on. You were too distracted by his unrelenting grip on your wrists, by the way his thigh pressed against yours, but most of all by the closeness of his face to yours. Your eyes scoured the darkness of his visor, inadvertently searching for any sign of the man behind it, but all you were met with was your own reflection. You really hoped you could pass off the redness drowning your cheeks as just a result of being so brutally beaten and not from having the Mandalorian _literally on top of you_. 

He let go of you as you both returned to your senses. “How about we uh, call it a day?” He was already halfway to the door before you even had a chance to nod in response, not that you were complaining. You were done with sparring for now and maybe forever. If it was that easy for you to get flustered, you were going to have a big problem. Tired, sweaty, and more than a little embarrassed, you decided now would be a good time for a shower. 

Looks like the door would have to stay broken for a little bit longer. 

——

You ruffled your still-damp hair, trying to shake some of the water out that you’d failed to dry before you got to the cockpit. You stopped suddenly, however, when something unusual caught your eye. You back-tracked a few steps, now standing in front of the open armory. Well, it was called the armory, but it was basically a glorified closet. The Mandalorian did have an impressive array of weapons, however. 

Normally the door was kept shut. It wasn’t like you were banned or anything, but it kept the child from accidentally getting his hands on anything dangerous (though most of the weapons were at least as big as he was). Yet it looked like Din must’ve left it open on accident. 

It wasn’t the blasters that got your attention, but rather something large and square-ish hung up on the wall. Whatever it was, it looked practically brand new, the metal still clean and mostly scuff-free. Your curiosity overtook any sense of caution as you lifted it free of the wall rack, wracking your brain for some idea of what the machine could be. 

“Don’t mess with that!” The Mandalorian’s voice nearly startled you into dropping the surprisingly heavy object directly on your foot. He took it from your hands and quickly placed it back on the wall.

“Well, what is it?” You didn’t appreciate being snuck up, or having things taken away from you for that matter. 

“It’s a jetpack.” He replied calmly as if that wasn’t the coolest thing you’d ever seen. 

“You’ve had a jetpack this whole time and didn’t tell me?!” You couldn’t decide if you were delighted or annoyed, your voice somehow conveying both. 

“It was never important.” Din crossed his arms and placed himself between you and the jetpack, watching you eye it excitedly. 

“How many times now would a jet pack have been super helpful? You’re just keeping the thing locked up!” You tried to step around Din but he was quick to block you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not like you were going to break the thing. You just wanted a better look. 

“Listen, without the proper training, these things can be incredibly dangerous. That’s why it’s for emergencies only.” He had hoped he wouldn’t ever have to have this conversation with you, seeing as the story wasn’t one of his most graceful moments. 

“...you don’t have the training do you?” You stepped back, giving Din an almost impish grin.

“...no.” He really wanted to walk out and end this conversation right now, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. 

“Have you flown it at all?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, aaaaand...?” You could _hear_ the embarrassment surfacing in his voice. There was a story behind this and you wouldn’t stop pestering him until you got it. 

“I... fell.” Fell, crashed, whatever you wanted to call it. In Din’s defense, he did also manage to take down Moff Gideon’s ship. But that wasn’t a story he wanted to bring up right now. 

“You _fell_.” It was halfway between a question and a statement. 

“Stumbled, really. Rough landing.”

“I would pay so many credits just to see that.” You laughed, wishing so much that you could see the look on his face. 

“Shut up. Come on, we’re almost to Nevarro.” He lead you out of the room, quick to close the door behind you this time. 

——

“So who are these ‘allies’ again?” You followed close behind the Mandalorian, traversing the smooth paths of long-hardened magma as you headed into town. Din had made Nevarro sound like some sort of haven, which it was under the circumstances, but you’d been imagining something... sunnier. You’d gotten a little too used to the temperate climates of the last couple planets you’d been to. Nevarro was almost entirely volcanic, the sky and the ground almost indistinguishable shades of slate. 

“Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’re... friends. They’ve gotten me out of some tough situations.” He stopped to face you, addressing the skepticism in your tone. “You can trust them, I promise. I’ve trusted them with my own life, with the _kid’s_. They’re good people.” After recent events, he knew you had every reason to be wary but he wanted you to know you were safe. 

You glanced back at the little green child being carried in his pack who cooed at you gleefully. You knew that Din didn’t trust almost anyone with the child, which said something about the people you were about to meet. He had even referred to them as _friends_. He must be serious. Yet after last time, you just couldn’t shake the lingering paranoia in the back of your mind. 

“Karga works for the Guild. It’s thanks to him I get the jobs that I do.” Din slowed as you entered town, taking a good look around. The place had certainly changed since the last time he’d been here. With the Imps gone, more people seemed to be out and about. The streets were still seedy to say the least, but people didn’t look like they were in constant fear for their lives. Even the air felt a little lighter. 

“And Cara Dune?” You looked around too, though not for anything in particular. The town looked the same as every other run-down port and backwater town you’d passed through before running into the Mandalorian. Perhaps it was a bit nicer. It looked like it had seen some recent development. 

“An ex-Alliance trooper. One of the best fighters I know. Saved my hide on multiple occasions.” He paused, debating his next words. He wanted to give you a good reason to trust her. “She’s... one of the only other people that knows my name.”

Your eyes went wide as you opened your mouth to speak before closing it forcefully. You didn’t know what to say exactly. There was a twinge of an ugly emotion in the back of your mind. One that you knew was unfounded. You understood that knowing Din’s name was something very few were privilege to, yourself being one of them of course. So Cara was clearly important to Din. You were glad. Glad he had people supporting him. You suppressed the idea that just maybe your role in his life was smaller than you’d thought. You pushed it down with shame, hoping the thought would never rear it’s ugly head again. The last thing you needed was another blow to your confidence. 

“You told her your name?” You asked carefully, handling each word delicately. You didn’t know if the story behind this was one he was willing to share or not, even with you. 

“No, I didn’t.” His voice made it clear that it was not a memory he was fond of. “But I do trust her with it.” He looked to you again, silently suggesting that the same applied to you. That was something he hoped you understood. Despite the circumstances under which he’d shared his name with you, he didn’t regret it. Sometimes he feared that you believed that was the case. 

You fell silent as you walked out into a crowded square, thankful for the distraction. Din seemed confident in where he was going, as if the route was muscle memory for him. At the same time, however, he was constantly looking around, searching the area. 

Out of nowhere, the distinct sound of an explosive blast sounded from close by, your adrenaline spiking as you instinctually pulled the child around to your front in order to protect him. Din acted just as quickly, practically tackling you into nearby cover, shielding you closely as you curled in on yourself in an instinct to protect the child in your arms. When you opened an eye, you noticed civilians around you react in similar manners, all looking around for potential danger. Din‘s position over you prevented you from moving, let alone get a good look around so you couldn’t see the potential threat. Not that there was much time, anyway, as a voice shouted from the direction of the noise. “It’s okay everyone! A generator blew, that’s all! Go about your business.” 

Din relaxed, letting his hand drift from its position hovering over his blaster. You heard his sigh of relief and saw his shoulders slump, yet he lingered over you. Before he got the chance to move, another voice sounded from directly in front of him. 

“Long time no see, Mando. Didn’t know you were coming.” 

You looked up just as he did, almost in awe of the figure standing above you. She was an absolute powerhouse of a woman, her face outlined by what little sun shone through the perpetual clouds. She had her arms crossed, only accentuating how strong her biceps were. You could tell just from a glance that she could give Din a run for his money in a fight. Between that and the teasing smirk that she gave the Mandalorian, you could only assume that this was none other than Cara Dune. 

Din got up quickly, freeing the both of you from your awkward position. He offered a hand to help you up, which you took gratefully, neither of you acknowledging how he held onto your hand a little bit longer than necessary, just barely enough for you notice. “That’s because I didn’t call,” he said, returning his attention to Cara. “How’d you find me so quickly?”

“How couldn’t I? You could spot that armor from a parsec away. Shiny as ever.” She grinned and you began to think that her resting face was just a smirk. It worked for her. You tried not to look like you were staring when she turned to you. “And who’re you?”

Surprisingly, there was no aggression in her voice nor any sign of distrust. She must trust the Mandalorian’s judgement enough not to be too wary of you. Though you doubted much of anything intimated her. 

You told her your name. “I’m part of the Mandalorian’s crew.” You nodded in his direction. 

Cara was visibly shocked, one eyebrow raised at the Mandalorian curiously. “You have a crew now?”

“Don’t be surprised. I gave you the offer once, didn’t I?” Din spoke to her far more casually than anyone else you’d seen. The two were clearly old friends with a certain rapport. 

“More than once.”

“But you had better things to do.” He brushed off some of the dirt that had clung to his armor. 

“I did. Things here on Nevarro are good now, but it’s been a bumpy ride.” Cara uncrossed her arms, gesturing to the surrounding streets which had quickly resumed normal operation. No one seemed to pay any mind to Mandalorian or yourself. They were used to seeing some strange folk around here, perhaps even more so than most of the galaxy. 

“Imps didn’t keep causing trouble did they?”

“No not once you left. There were a lot of people trying to fill the space they left behind, though. But the Guild’s got it under control.” She spoke proudly, clearly satisfied with the work they’d done to make Nevarro ‘respectable’ again.

“Speaking of, where’s Karga?” Din’s weight shifted a bit from one foot to the other, eager to keep moving. 

“Probably in his usual place. I’ll go with you.” Cara nodded in the direction you’d been headed before. 

“You a bounty hunter now?”

“Something like that. I take all sorts of jobs around here. And there’s one we could actually use your help on. I’ll let him fill you in on the rest.”

You started walking as Din took the lead. Cara lagged behind just long enough to give the kid in your arms a playful nudge and you took note of the way he giggled. You had a better feeling about this than you’d had a few minutes prior. Hopefully, whatever this job was wouldn’t ruin that feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my bi ass can’t handle being in a room with both Din and Cara at the same time. Too bad I have the whole rest of the story outlined already and she’s not really in it much


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up 3 months late with coffee and a new chapter*
> 
> btw there won’t be any season 2 spoilers in this fic! I’ve had it all plotted out since before s2 aired

“Mando! Welcome back! Who’s your new friend?” The man you could only assume was Greef Karga joyfully greeted you both from across the dusty bar, arms outstretched. He crossed the room with a certain zeal, certainly unlike what you’d imagined from someone on close terms with Din.

You told him your name, holding out your hand. He shook it firmly and introduced himself, his posture bowing ever so slightly in a polite, if not somewhat old-fashioned gesture. He had a charismatic flair about him, which wasn’t quite what you’d expected. Perhaps you’d learn to stop expecting things. They never quite turned out, for better or worse. 

“Cara mentioned you were having trouble with a job?” Din cut straight to the chase. You figured if Greef knew him as well as he acted, then he’d be used to this sort of treatment. 

“Yes, I suppose you could say that. Though I’m not sure ‘ _trouble_ ’ is the word I would use—“

“I would.” Cara stepped in, cutting him off. Her implication made you a bit nervous. She was probably one of the most intimidating people you’d ever met; you didn’t want to know what she considered to be trouble. 

Greef attempted to mitigate the conversation. “Well, we have hit something of a snag.” You couldn’t help but think he’d make a good politician in another life. 

“A bounty?” Din asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his visor. You met his gaze but didn’t want to convey your own nervousness to the other two. This might be the one time you envied that he kept his face covered. 

Greef sighed. “Afraid not. But it’s something worth taking care of sooner than later.” 

“Well, what is it?” Din asked when he didn’t follow up. Cara shot the man a concerned look before glancing around the room carefully. There were a handful of others present, none of whom looked particularly invested in your presence. But looks could be deceiving. 

“Why don’t we talk somewhere a little quieter?” Greef nodded towards the back of the room and gestured for you all to follow. You entered into some kind of storage room free of any patrons or staff. “Sorry for the dramatics, but it’s important that this stays between us. As of late, there have been... _disturbances_. Most could simply be coincidence but something tells me that they’re not. Call it a gut feeling. We have good reason to believe that there is a spy in the Guild, here on Nevarro.”

“A lot of hunters were spies. How is this news?” Din crossed his arms skeptically. He knew Greef could sometimes be... dramatic. 

That’s when Cara stepped forward. “They’re spying on the Guild here. Even sabotaging things. And it’s only going to get worse until we find them.”

“Wait, you don’t have any idea who it is?” You interjected, deciding now was your time to join the conversation. “What makes you think there’s a spy then?”

“I’ll admit, some of this may just be hearsay,” Greef answered. “But too many things have been going wrong lately. It started with small things; shipments not arriving or being tampered with, that sort of thing. Then it escalated to our hunters having problems. In the past week alone, I’ve had three tell me that their bounties were dead by time they got there. And these aren’t exactly big targets we’re talking about. Whoever this spy is, they’ve got connections. And then about a week ago, I was supposed to meet with one of our more esteemed hunters, present company excluded of course, but she never showed. No one has heard from her since she sent her last message. She was bringing in a fairly valuable quarry as well. I just can’t explain it. No one else should’ve known she was on her way back aside from myself.”

Din seemed deep in thought for a moment. As much as he too wanted to chalk it all up to coincidence, he knew better. He seemed to have the same gut feeling that Greef did, though his suspicions went further. “You think this spy is Imperial?” 

“I don’t know. So far there’s been no sign of them returning and trust me, we’ve been keeping a close eye out. Perhaps this is the work of someone trying to step in on their territory.” Greef looked to Cara, asking for her input. 

“Whatever is going on,” she said, a sense of frustration in her tone. “It’s not going to be a straightforward job. No running in guns blazing. We have barely any evidence. This’ll take time.” 

Din sighed audibly, loud enough to make his vocoder crackle. “Why did it have to be spies? When did shooting at each other become old-fashioned?” 

With no immediate response from anyone, he turned and headed back out into the cantina. You trailed after him, following outside into the streets once more. He leaned against the outside wall, staring out at the people passing by though not really seeing them. 

“What are you thinking?” You asked softly, unsure of what was going through his head. He was harder to read than usual. You weren’t sure if it was because other people were around or something else. 

He was quiet another moment, something you were used to. But you were surprised by the tenderness in his voice when he spoke again. “We came here because it was supposed to be safe. For _both_ you.” He nodded to the child. The little one had climbed out of his pack somewhat, peeking over your shoulder at his father. “Normally I would stay and help but...” He didn’t finish his statement, but you understood. 

You glanced around, making sure that no one was in earshot. “Din,” you whispered his name, noticing the visible reaction from him. He looked around as well, confirming the same thing you had. But he didn’t stop you, so you continued. “I doubt we’d find anywhere safer. If one supposed ‘spy’ is all we have to worry about here, I think that’s pretty good. And besides, it’s all part of the job isn’t it?” You gave him a small smile, doing your best to assuage his worries. 

The tension eased in his shoulders, though more out of concession than relief. “I suppose you’re right. Although that’s another problem. Depending on how long this takes, I’m going to have to find other jobs in the meantime. And I doubt I’d be so lucky to find any bounties planetside.” 

“I’m sure I can pick up some spare work.” You shrugged casually, figuring something like this would happen while you were here anyway. You weren’t planning on just hiding away doing nothing this whole time. 

“No. It’s important no one recognizes you. The less time you spend in town, the better.” 

You managed to resist the urge to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the mild annoyance in your voice. “You said the Imperials here were all chased off. Do you really think anyone’s going to recognize me?” Din looked ready to retort when the cantina door hissed open behind you, Cara Dune stepping outside. Her timing couldn’t have been better, as things were very close to escalating into a full-blown argument.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she glanced between the two of you. “But I’ve got a place you can stay if you want.”

“The Razor Crest will be fine, thank you.” Din crossed his arms, reflexively leaping to the defense of his ship. 

Cara laughed. “Really, Mando? You finally get a chance to sleep in a real bed and you’d still rather go back to that hunk of—“ 

Din’s face may not have been visible, but the look he shot Cara was a warning so firm you could feel it. It was like an electric current in the air, strong enough to cut her off before she said something that would get _both_ of them in trouble.

“—perfectly good ship,” she finished, suppressing a smirk. It didn’t matter if she was one of the Mandalorian’s closest friends, no one talked shit about his ship. Although that closeness was also the only reason she could speak to him that way at all. 

“She’s got a point,” you chimed in gently. “The Crest could use some serious work while we’re here. Stuff that’ll probably take awhile.” You also really liked the idea of staying somewhere with a real bed and maybe, if you were exceptionally lucky, even a real kitchen. Although you wouldn’t say that to Din, of course. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the home he’d so graciously given you even if it was a little rough around the edges. 

He stood stiff, feet planted as if ready to put up a fight. But he came to his senses quickly, admitting that you were right. “I... I suppose. The kid could use a change of scenery anyway.” 

The child cooed as if confirming. Perhaps he was, who knows. Cara even cracked a smile at the little one’s delight. “I hate to admit it, but I kinda missed this little guy.” She reached behind you for the kid and you froze. You glanced to Din for some sign of whether or not you should stop her, but he just crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. He was about as relaxed as he could be given the circumstances. 

The child giggled in Cara’s hold, reaching for her happily. It was a somewhat strange sight, but no more so than the occasions you’d seen Din give the child similar affection. Perhaps the kid’s greatest power was the ability to melt the hearts of even the toughest warriors. You had yet to see anyone his charms failed to work on. 

Cara set the child down gently on the ground where he seemed excited to finally stretch his legs. “Follow me,” she nodded in the opposite direction, gesturing for you to follow. 

The place she brought you was surprisingly nice, at least compared to what else you’d seen of Nevarro. It was bigger than you’d expected too, with a main room serving as both kitchen and living space and then a few more rooms off to the side. It was quite plain, or rather utilitarian, not unlike the Crest. The place looked like it was built out of a kit, including the building itself. Thinking back, you recalled the outsides of some of the other structures you’d seen in town and realized many were probably the same as this one on the inside, more or less. Whoever first settled here must’ve come prepared. 

“How exactly did you get this place?” The Mandalorian turned to Cara who merely shrugged casually. 

“Won it.” 

The Mandalorian didn’t miss a beat. “Who’d you have to fight?” He almost sounded amused. 

Cara feigned offense, though she was smiling. “Would you believe me if I said I won it in sabacc?”

“Since when are you a gambler?”

“Gotta kill time somehow. Normally I don’t care for betting but that rodian had it coming. Mouthy bastard could’ve walked away with almost all my credits if he’d quit while he was ahead instead of getting cocky.” She crossed her arms and sighed, turning her attention to a new subject. “Anyway, it’s definitely more space than I need. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I’m rarely here anyway.”

“You’re sure we’re not intruding?” You asked, surprised by her generosity. Normally you’d be suspicious. Nobody was this nice, especially not these days. But you reminded yourself what Din had told you. He trusted Cara with his life and you could too. 

“Really, it’s not a problem.” She waved it off like no big deal. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Go ahead and make yourselves at home.”

-

By the time you’d gotten settled, the sun was getting low in the sky. You’d retrieved your effects from the ship and Din had seen to getting it repaired. 

You were watching the kid for the time being. As much as you didn’t like being saddled with babysitting duty, you couldn’t be annoyed around the child. You let him wander around outside, always hanging a few steps behind him just to be safe. At one point you’d caught him trying to eat a bug and weren’t quite fast enough to stop him. He still seemed fine even after awhile so you figured you didn’t need to mention it to Din. 

As you herded the child back towards the front of the house, you caught a glint out of the corner of your eye. You turned to see Din approaching, his armor catching the last of the day’s light. 

“The Crest is taken care of,” he said, almost as if he already missed the damn thing. He wasn’t really the sentimental type but you could tell he was definitely attached to that ship. “He give you any trouble?” 

As if on cue, the child waddled up to Din, grabbing at his boot with a look of pure innocence on his little face. “No more than usual.” You cracked a smile as Din caved and reached for the child, picking him up as carefully as an egg. You thought it was funny how he held the kid sometimes, like he was afraid of damaging the little guy. You realized you probably looked the same way, however. Neither of you had prior experience with children after all and this one was just _so small_. 

“It’s about bed time for you, kid.” Din spoke softly to the child who yawned in turn. Your heart fluttered a bit at the sight. You wouldn’t say this to him, but Din really was a pretty good dad. To see him soften up even a little was a rare sight indeed. 

“I was just thinking the same.” You’d lost track of how long you’d been up, but you were definitely tired. You had no clue what time it was when you arrived but to be fair, you also had no idea how long the days were here. So really, it didn’t matter. Maybe being planetside for awhile would give your internal clock a chance to finally kick in. You loved traveling and seeing space for the most part but your sleep schedule sure didn’t. 

The Mandalorian nodded and headed inside with you trailing close behind. He’d brought a few more things back from the ship, including the child’s bassinet. He set the kid inside, making sure he was tucked in and comfortable. It was a routine you’d witnessed multiple times now. 

“Hey, I was just wondering,” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the child as his eyes began drifting shut. “Do you sleep in the armor and the helmet and everything?” You hoped that the question wasn’t rude, but it was something you’d thought about a few times before and now seemed like as good a time as any to ask. 

Din pressed a button on his vambrace, the bassinet closing with a quiet hiss. “Usually, yes.” He took no offense from the question. He was plenty used to your curiosity by now. He wouldn’t admit it, but your occasional inquiries could be a nice change. He’d gotten used to people refusing to talk to him at all, either out of disdain or fear. Usually the latter. Not that he wanted to go around sharing his life story by any means. But for you, he could divulge a bit now and again. 

“Really? Sounds uncomfortable. What about when you were alone on the ship?” You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, but you were in a more inquisitive mood than usual. You just had to be careful not to push it too much. 

“It’s a habit I made a long time ago.” Din’s answers were short but not curt. He simply felt no further explanation was needed, as per usual. It had taken you some time to understand that but now it was expected. 

“Oh. I guess I didn’t think about that.” You wondered exactly how long he’d lived like this. His whole life? Since he was a child? There was still a lot you didn’t understand about his way of life. You didn’t even know how old he was. As much as you wanted to ask more, now was neither the time nor the place. Conveniently, a yawn overtook you at just that moment, giving you both an easy out from the conversation.

“Get some rest. It’s been a long day.” The way he spoke seemed to suggest more long days ahead. That was something else you’d gotten used to. Both figuratively and literally in some cases, the days had been growing much longer lately. 

You mumbled something along the lines of ‘you too’ and made your way to one of the open rooms, practically crashing onto the bed. It was more comfortable than any bed you could ever remember, but that may just have something to do with the fact that you’d fallen asleep on a metal floor the previous night. Stars, that felt so long ago now. Too bad you didn’t get the chance to really enjoy just how comfortable you were now. For once, you managed to fall asleep in mere minutes. It was a good thing there’d be plenty more days here. 

-

You found Din in the morning in the kitchen with the child, trying to get him to eat. He seemed to be having better luck this time, as all was quiet save for the child’s intermittent coos. “He seems happy. Has he stopped giving you trouble?” 

“For now.” Din stood up from the table and nodded toward the counter. “There’s bread.” 

You looked it over, suspicion raised by just how good it looked. “ _Real_ bread?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the Mandalorian. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You imagined him raising an eyebrow as well, though it was difficult when you hadn’t a clue what he looked like. 

“I mean bread that didn’t come from a bag of powder.” While instant food was extremely convenient, it was unbearably bland. At first you’d been in somewhat awe of the technical feat that was a simple powder that turned into bread when mixed with water, but that quickly turned to disappointment when you learned that it tasted like a rock. Seemed like one step forward, two steps back to you. 

The Mandalorian made a sound that could’ve been a chuckle or a scoff, too soft for the vocoder to pick up properly. You assumed the latter. You were wrong. “Yes it’s ‘ _real_ ’ bread.” 

You were quick to cast aside your doubts, snatching up the bread as if it were a priceless treasure. You stopped barely a second before digging in, however. “Have you eaten yet?” 

The Mandalorian was firmly a man of his word, so he just had to be careful what words he chose. “It’s all yours.” He hadn’t eaten anything that morning, this was true, but he placed himself at the bottom of the list in terms of priority. Besides, he knew you’d barely eaten anything the past couple of days. 

Just as you expected, you got an answer that wasn’t really an answer. Din had mastered the art of lying by omission. If he _had_ eaten, he would’ve just said so. He didn’t mince words. You shot him a look that made it clear you saw through his act. Without another word, you broke apart the bread as evenly as possible, tossing him half. “So what’s the plan today?” You leaned against the counter, happily savoring your breakfast as you changed the subject. 

“We should head to the market for a supply run, especially if we’re going to be here awhile.” Din wrapped up the bread and tucked in into a pocket for later. “It’ll be good to get a feel for the place. It’s changed a lot since I was last here.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

“I hope so.” He said it as if there was the possibility it could be a bad thing, despite having no real reason to believe so. Imperial presence was gone, which was objectively good. But he always had to brace himself for the worst possible outcome, no matter how clear the coast may seem. You noticed it too, unfortunately. You wished he wouldn’t think like that sometimes. If only he could just relax and let things be _okay_ for once. 

The walk through town was pleasantly uneventful. There was a thin layer of cloud cover, which was about as good as it got on Nevarro. Plenty of people were out and about on their own business. Din took particular notice of this. The people passing by seemed just generally _happier_ than before. They no longer watched over their shoulder as they travelled. Their anxious scuffling was replaced by an almost leisurely pace. A handful of children were running around. Even the air felt lighter. It was hard to believe this was the same town as all those months ago. 

“Hey, so while we’re here, I was going to try looking for work.” You stayed close by the Mandalorian’s side out of habit, though you hardly felt the same uneasiness you’d had on some of your previous outings. It was abundantly clear that you were in no danger. 

“I thought we discussed this yesterday.” Din halted in his tracks and you turned on your heel to face him, not caring much for his tone. 

“I’m not just going to sit around here doing nothing. I’m already not pulling my own weight.” You tugged down on the straps of the child’s pack, hefting it higher as if to emphasize your point, albeit unintentionally. Although to Din, it would affirm his own point. 

“That’s not true. You’ve been a big help with the kid.” The little guy cooed happily as he suddenly became the center of attention. “And you can help me keep an ear out for information. People will speak more freely around you.” He wasn’t just saying that for your sake. You may have an easier time picking up rumors and whatnot than he would. You didn’t draw the same sort of attention he did. 

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh yeah? How’s that supposed to go if I only come into town with you? Look, I know there’s a lot of things I don’t understand, but I can help more than you give me credit for. I’m not just a babysitter. Honestly, I bet you’ve got more experience in that particular field than I do.”

Din tilted his head down ever so slightly, a clear sign that he was tired of this argument. “I’d take that bet,” he quipped, sidestepping the main argument altogether. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you but you’d said it yourself: there was a lot of things you didn’t understand. One of which was that it was safer to just trust him and do what he said. 

He resumed walking before you got another chance to retort. “Let’s just focus on getting supplies right now.” He took it upon himself to end the conversation although, much to your frustration, no compromise had been reached. 

That put an end to the matter as you entered the open street where the market was. You mentally pushed the subject to the back burner but were far from over it. For now, though, you could cooperate. It wasn’t like you _wanted_ to argue after all. 

Din found himself unfamiliar with the area. What once was a seedy intersection dotted mainly by black market dealers was now a bustling, almost _vibrant_ square. Sure, there were a few of the usual vendors peddling arms and such, but it seemed to be treated more like a legitimate business practice. It was surprising how much the town’s trouble had stemmed solely from the Imperial presence. Greef had really meant what he said about Nevarro being ‘respectable’ again. 

You were unaware of this shift, of course. As far as you were concerned, it was just another marketplace, essentially a smaller version of what you’d seen on Takodana. It was pleasant enough, nothing about it particularly standing out to you. To the child, however, something definitely stood out. He let out a high pitched squeal as you walked, drawing both yours and Din’s attention immediately. “What’s wrong with him?” You asked, turning so Din could take the kid from your pack. 

“I don’t know. He seems fine.” Din held the unusually excited child with one arm. He’d become far more vocal in the time since Din had found him, not that he was any easier to understand. The child looked up at him, eyes especially wide and ears raised. He squirmed in Din’s grasp, turning back to face the way you’d come from with another excited babble. When Din saw what had gotten the child so worked up, he was quick to shut down the idea. “No, no, we don’t need that.” 

The little guy had been reaching out for a stall you’d just passed which you weren’t surprised you’d missed. They seemed to sell a lot of general goods, not really carrying any one thing in particular. Produce, clothes, drinking water, that sort of stuff. Off to the side of the booth, however, was the object of the child’s affection. A simple hand-sewn toy perched atop a stack of cloth. Whatever animal it represented was unidentifiable. Whether this was due to it being an unfamiliar creature or the... _modest_ craftsmanship, you didn’t know but you would bet on the latter. It resembled little more than a formless blob with dangling limbs attached. Still, it was cute and the child was clearly drawn to it. 

“Come on, let’s keep moving.” Din turned away from the booth and the child let out a pitiful noise, still reaching towards the toy. “I know buddy, but you don’t need it.” He lowered his voice to a more sympathetic tone but it did little to soothe the child. 

You couldn’t seem to resist the child’s pleading like Din could. “Oh, I’m sure we can spare a few credits don’t you think?” 

“Maybe, but I don’t want to risk it.” Din held onto the child as he continued walking in an effort to calm him down. He found himself thankful once more that the little one wasn’t prone to tantrums or crying. 

You glanced back at the toy that seemed to stare at you sadly as you walked away. You were nearly as disappointed as the child, though you weren’t going to start another argument over something like this. This was Din’s child after all and you were in no position to tell him how to parent. You’d made that perfectly clear not five minutes ago. If you had your own pocket money, you’d consider just buying the toy yourself but that wasn’t really how your employment situation worked. 

All was pretty uneventful for awhile after that. You took the child back once he’d settled down, though you could tell he was pouting. He was especially quiet, even compared to normal and his ears hung lower. You helped Din track down supplies, your presence alone making the bartering process easier in most places. You considered yourself at least slightly more of a people-person than Din was, or perhaps that was just due to the lack of intimidating armor. One shopkeeper seemed more than happy to lower her prices when she got a good look at your strange little group. It wasn’t until after you’d made your purchase that you figured out why exactly. 

“What an adorable child you have,” she crooned, leaning in for a better look at the still-pouting child on your back. “Are they a boy or a girl?” 

“Oh, well he’s a boy,” you stuttered awkwardly. You weren’t sure how to explain to this woman that he wasn’t technically your child, though you’d think that was clear just looking at you. You supposed it wasn’t that strange a sight given just how big the galaxy was. 

“Well he’s just precious. I’ve got two of my own at home, although they’re a little older.” You doubted that but let her continue anyway. “He’s so quiet too! I don’t know how you do it. My kids have always been troublemakers.” 

You laughed politely, deciding it was easiest to just go along with the conversation. “Oh he can be trouble too. He’s just pouting right now. His dad wouldn’t let him get a toy he wanted.” Speaking of, Din seemed to have wandered off. Oh well, you’d catch up to him. You were starting to enjoy just getting to make small talk for once since Din wasn’t much for it. 

“I’m sure he’ll be over it before you know it.” She was very chipper, which made the next thing she said catch you all the more off guard. “You’re lucky, you know. Your husband must care very much for you both. Mine ran off years ago.” 

“ _What?_ ” Your voice practically cracked from sheer surprise. You rushed to pass it off as a coughing fit as you worked out just how exactly to respond to that drastic misjudgment of your situation. 

“Oh dear, do you need some water?” She was completely oblivious to the awkwardness she’d just inflicted on the conversation. Boy, were you glad Din had left. 

“No no, I’m fine.” You waved her off as casually as you could. “I’m uh— I’m sorry to hear that.” 

She just shrugged like it was no big deal. This was all just idle chitchat to her. “Oh don’t be. Trust me, we’re better off.” You would’ve wondered how she could be so blasé about such a matter but you’d met others almost just like her in the past. Even back home, there were single mothers with basically identical stories. Apparently the antics of some men were universal. 

“Well, thanks again for the help. It was nice talking to you.” Now you just wanted out of the conversation as quickly as possible. “But I better go find my, uh— oh, I think I see him.” You were lying about that last part but only because you were _not_ about to refer to the Mandalorian as your husband, even if she had already assumed it. You scurried away quickly, waving politely as you returned your attention to the crowds bustling by. It shouldn’t be that hard to find Din out here. He couldn’t have gone far and didn’t exactly blend in. 

You wandered in the general direction you thought you remembered him going. Just as you were beginning to worry you’d lost him, you rounded a corner and spotted him talking to another shopkeeper. You assumed by his tone that he was having a heated debate over the value of what appeared to be machine parts. He was speaking to the alien shopkeeper in a language you didn’t recognize, however, so it didn’t look like you were going to be much help. You were about to rejoin him anyway until an idea struck you. Din wouldn’t like it but he’d get over it eventually. You turned back the way you came as nonchalantly as possible, careful not to draw his attention. 

You traced your steps back to the shop where you’d been talking to the woman. As awkward as the conversation had been, she was otherwise quite easy to talk to. Hopefully she’d be able to help. 

“Oh, hello again.” She smiled at you as if greeting an old friend rather than a veritable stranger. “Forget something?”

“Actually, I just had a question. Would you happen to know of anywhere around here I could find work? We just got to town yesterday and might be here awhile.” You tried to match her tone of casual over-sharing, though obviously not to the same extent. 

“Oh! Well as a matter-of-fact, I could use a little bit of help around here.” Hmm. That wasn’t what you’d expected and while you weren’t sure how much you liked the idea of spending a lot of time with the woman, work was work. She was perfectly nice, more so than just about everybody else in the galaxy you’d run into, but you worried she might pry into your business too much. You supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“What kind of help do you need?” You made extra effort to sound interested. 

“It’s nothing all that exciting, unfortunately. I just need some help unloading shipments. It’s tougher work than you’d think and I’m all by myself here.” Yes, you were very aware of that fact. 

“When do you need me?” was all you said. You didn’t much care what the work was. You just wanted to actually do something useful around here.

The woman had somehow become even perkier than she was before. She must be more overworked than she let on. “I could actually use your help this evening, just for a couple hours. That’s all I ask, just a couple hours every few days. I couldn’t pay you for much more than that anyway.” She kind of laughed at her own comment, not wanting to make it sound like she couldn’t pay you at all. Luckily, you weren’t overly concerned about the money anyway. 

“I’ll be here.” You held out your hand and she shook it firmly, sealing the deal.

-

“Where were you?” You had run into Din again on the way back to where you’d seen him bartering a little bit ago. Surprisingly, he seemed more concerned than annoyed about your absence. 

“I got caught up talking to that last shopkeeper, sorry. She was very chatty.” Technically not a lie, you just didn’t tell him everything. It was no question where you’d picked up that habit from. 

Din didn’t question it further, at least not out loud. Instead, he turned his attention to the child that was still sulking in your pack. “He still upset?” 

“It would seem so.” You felt bad for the little guy but it’s not like you blamed Din. He was probably right, after all. Still, you worried sometimes that kid never really got to just _be a kid_. One toy couldn’t possibly hurt, could it? 

“Come here, kid.” Din reached for the child again, cradling him in one arm as he reached into a pocket with his free hand. “Here, you can have this.” He retrieved a small silver sphere which you recognized as something the child had played with before. He immediately perked up when handed the makeshift toy that he was so fond of. Din turned back to you once the child seemed content again. “I grabbed it from the ship last night. Thought it might come in handy.” 

“Seems you were right.” You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. Din always acted like such a tough guy but when it came to the child, he was as soft as that toy from earlier. You had no way of knowing just how rare it was to see this side of him. Even Greef and Cara had barely seen it. 

You both returned home in a better mood than you’d left. Well, temporary home, that was. Cara was still absent. You were beginning to think that when she said she ‘wasn’t home much’ that she really meant ‘at all.’ It wasn’t really your business what she did with her time, however. She seemed like a busy person. 

Some hours later, the child was asleep and Din had retreated to his room to eat. You hoped he had more than just the leftover bread but you weren’t going or bother him about it. You actually had other plans. It was about time for you to head back into town. You left a note on the table for Din. ‘ _Found a job. Be back in a few hours_.’ You about turned to leave before adding one more thing. ‘ _Seriously, don’t worry. I’ll be fine_.’ You didn’t really expect him to just take that lying down, however, which is why you didn’t say anything about it before. The last thing you needed was for him to show up and cause you problems. 

So you snuck out the door as quiet as possible, feeling more than a little guilty about tricking Din, but you were sure it would all work out. 

-

Din couldn’t even be upset when he read the note. It’s not like he was surprised. He did spend a good chunk of time debating whether or not to go look for you, however. You couldn’t have gone very far in the time he was eating. But he decided against it for now. For one thing, the child was already asleep and waking him up now meant he’d probably be cranky later. 

As cruel as it sounded, Din already had to watch over the kid constantly, he didn’t have time right now to do the same with you. 

-

It was well past dark by the time you returned and _damn_ , you were tired. Your body hadn’t ached this much since... well, since you’d been poisoned but you didn’t count that. The point was, you were ready for bed but you guessed you’d have one other issue to deal with first. 

You hesitated in front of the door, trying to calculate just how upset Din was going to be with you. It was no use, your brain was fried for the day. On the plus side, you didn’t have the energy to get into an actual argument.

You saw him the second you opened the door, sitting at the table with his arms crossed, just waiting. “I assume you’re upset?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters. 

“I almost went looking for you. It’s especially not safe after nightfall.” That may not be as true as it once was but he hadn’t wanted to test it.

His tone conveyed nothing. By now, you were usually able to read at least _something_ from him at all times but he was just... blank. It was kind of unnerving, really. “I picked up a job helping that one woman. She runs that shop by herself, said she needed a hand unloading supplies every now and then.” To make your point, you slid your humble earnings for the day across the table toward the Mandalorian, the clink of credits harsh in the otherwise quiet room. 

He wasn’t remotely interested in the credits. He made it clear that you that he could take care of that. What he was upset about was that you went behind his back. “Why can’t you just listen to me? You know by now how dangerous it is out there.” 

Whether he believed it or not, you were listening. But unlike the child, your life wasn’t governed by the Mandalorian, even if he was technically your boss. So you just let him say what he was gonna say. 

A light shuffling drew both of your attention for the moment. The child, who had been asleep, came padding quietly into the room to see what the commotion was about despite the fact that neither you nor Din had been particularly loud. 

Din sighed and got up. “I know you think you’re not doing enough but the best thing you can do is stay safe, which means— are you even listening?” 

While he spoke, you picked up the child who’d begun waddling towards you. You felt bad for possibly waking him up but you had something to make up for it. “Yes, I’m listening,” you said, never fully turning your attention from the child. 

Din was beginning to get frustrated, which wasn’t something that happened very often. “I don’t think you get how serious—“ He stopped when you pulled something from your jacket pocket. 

Whatever grogginess might have clung to the child vanished instantly once he saw what was in your free hand. The familiar, blob-like shape of the plush toy from the market was placed in his tiny, clawed hands. He squealed and laughed like he’d never been happier, squeezing the toy that was nearly half his size as hard as his little arms could muster. 

You watched the child play happily in your arms, a tired but content smile on your face. You took the time to just relax and enjoy the moment for a minute before turning your attention back to Din. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. And I won’t work anymore if you really insist. I trust your judgement completely.” You were already tired of the arguing and it had only been like a day. Din was pretty much the only person in the galaxy you could put your trust in and you didn’t want to mess that up. 

He‘d be so sure he should be upset. But he was wrong; he knew that now. He stared at you a moment, the gears turning in his head. You looked about ready to collapse, yet you still focused on the child in your arms, the child that had maybe never looked happier. And even through your exhaustion, you smiled. Faintly, but it was definitely there. You ran yourself ragged and still stopped to get the one thing that the kid wanted. And after all of it, you owned up to it and said you trusted his judgement from now on. _You trusted him completely_. Maybe he should start doing the same. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. 

“You don’t have to apologize.” You lowered your voice as the child yawned, eyes beginning to droop even as he refused to let go of the toy. 

“I know.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Had he gone soft or was he always like this underneath? Whichever it was, you liked this version of him. 

Din crossed the room to you, careful to keep his steps as quiet as possible. He wordlessly offered to take the now-sleeping child and you obliged. It was a somewhat awkward process, trying to pass the little one to Din without waking him. You missed bumping your head on his helmet by mere centimeters. 

“You can keep working if you want to.” His voice was barely a whisper but between the quiet of the house and close proximity, you heard him loud and clear. “I was wrong. You can make your own judgement calls. I trust you. If there’s trouble, we’ll take care of it.” A silent _’together’_ was tacked on at the end, not heard but understood nonetheless by both parties. 

After a shared nod and a mumbled ‘goodnight’ on your part, the two of you parted for the night. Being back on the same page was a bigger weight off your chest than you’d realized. For Din, it was a weight he hadn’t even realized was there. From now on, he would be treating you like crew, not cargo. However this all played out, you would be working together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick, I know I said no S2 spoilers but if you haven’t seen “The Jedi” yet, SKIP THIS NOTE. 
> 
> I’m wondering how y’all would feel about me incorporating the child’s name into the story. I have a way to do it that doesn’t break the story, makes sense, and doesn’t add any unnecessary characters or diversions from the plot. Nothing from the events of s2 will be involved, I have my own plan. I’m just thinking it might sound better to start saying “Grogu” instead of just ‘the child’ or ‘little one’ or ‘kid’ all the time. Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaahhhh you guys have been leaving such nice comments!!! One of these days you’re gonna make me actually cry, tysm for the support and I love you all!!! Oh and btw, there won’t be any other season 2 spoilers other than the kid’s name, so no worries if you’re not caught up.

Some days it seemed like time on Nevarro had slowed to a crawl, yet the end of your first week planet-side had come and gone before you even noticed. You kept working, enough to keep yourself busy and fed. Din continued to help with the investigation and any general trouble that still arose around town. Overall, though, very little progress had been made. There were simply no good leads. But it was the longest stretch that you hadn’t had to fight for your lives since you’d come aboard, so neither of you were in too much hurry to leave. 

Din was acting different than before. Subtly, almost imperceptibly different but it was definitely there. He shared more, keeping you up-to-date on the investigation when you weren’t there to help. Plans were made with your input as opposed to the strict instruction he once would’ve given. In reality, these changes were quite small. You only noticed because, well, you were paying close attention. 

There were a lot of quiet nights. The Mandalorian didn’t seem to know what to do with those. He was a soldier in peacetime. To him, the quiet was a warning, the calm before the storm, and this was shaping up to be a big one. 

It was one of these nights that there was, in fact, a very literal storm. Nevarro was a predominantly volcanic planet which led to frequent atmospheric activity. You wouldn’t have associated volcanoes with heavy rainfall but it turned out to be quite common. The townspeople didn’t seem to care much for it. The mud became almost unbearable with minimal plant life to keep it in check. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel the same, however. The rain had always been a relaxing presence, its rhythmic drumming on the thin metal roof more soothing than any lullaby. The occasional low roll of thunder only heightened the effect. 

Din found you settled comfortably by the window, the rain outside coming down in sheets. You were so comfortable, in fact, that he thought you were asleep at first glance. But you looked back when you heard him approach, silently acknowledging his presence before you turned your attention back to the window. “What are you doing?” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 

“Just relaxing.” It was one of the only chances you’d had to do so in quite some time. “I like listening to the rain. It’s calming, I guess.” You shrugged half-heartedly. There was nothing left you needed to worry about tonight. It was high time you got a break. That applied doubly for the Mandalorian. You patted the empty space next to you casually. “Care to join me?”

“I don’t see what’s relaxing about a thunderstorm.” Despite his cynicism, Din took a seat without complaint. “At this rate, we might have to worry about flooding.” There were a number of potential headaches a storm like this could cause; flooding, damages, not to mention the noise. Din had been forced to put the child to sleep in his pram just so he wouldn’t be woken up. The little one had taken to sleeping by Din’s side most nights or occasionally by yours. Either way, he always had his new most prized possession with him. He rarely let go of the plush toy from the market. 

“Well, how about I show you?” You turned to face him, resting a hand on the unarmored spot between his pauldron and neck, easing him into a more relaxed position. “Lean back and close your eyes.” He sighed as if the idea were only amusing at best but didn’t resist. By now you knew that was a good enough sign to continue. He crossed his arms once he was comfortable. You could always tell his guard was down when he crossed his arms. It was about as far from his blaster as his hands got. In this case, it meant he was willing to cooperate with you, to at least entertain your idea. “Are your eyes closed?” You’d just have to just take his word for it.

“Yes.”

“Are they actually?”

“ _Yes._ ” 

“Just checking.” You laughed under your breath, partly at him but mostly at the situation. You’d never met someone wound as tightly as he was. Getting him to relax was like pulling teeth. But he was trying. He really was. The past week had been just as stressful if not more so than any of his regular jobs. He didn’t like not having a clear objective. It had gotten to the point where even he was thinking he could use a rest, not that he could afford one. 

The sound of your voice seemed to be the next best thing. “Now just... listen.” You said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world and for you it was. You made yourself comfortable again, carefully maintaining what little distance you could between the two of you. It was silent for a few minutes, save for the drumming that you spoke so highly of. Din began to feel some of his tension fade away, however slowly, though he wasn’t sure it was from the rain. There was more comfort in having you next to him, silently sharing the moment. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he opted not to think too much on what he couldn’t explain. 

Just as it seemed your idea was right, a clap of thunder broke the air so loud, it was deafening. Din’s reflexes kicked in as if it were an explosion as he attempted to jump to his feet but your hand shot back to his shoulder just as fast, silently insisting he remain. It took a second to come down from the momentary adrenaline, wherein his instincts had sent him into protect-mode, so to speak. He had reached for you in the moment, his hand coming to rest firmly just above your knee. Once the initial shock and embarrassment had passed, you both returned your hands to yourselves without a word. 

It wasn’t the first of such incidents lately. Sometimes it felt like the two of you were drifting closer, like two planets in orbit around each other, going in circles until they either settle into a pattern or collide in spectacular fashion. Whether it was an accidental brush of your hands, a reassuring touch on your shoulder, or even just standing _slightly_ closer to you than necessary, Din’s physical presence in your life had definitely changed. It was immensely frustrating. You knew better than to think on it too much but you couldn’t help it. It was just like that night on the Razor Crest when you’d fallen asleep in the cockpit under the stars. You even told yourself the same thing as back then; _it wasn’t going to happen_. It was a fleeting fancy, nothing more. 

You just wished you had some idea of what was going on in his head. The state of not knowing might just be worse than being rejected. In fact, rejection almost sounded like a relief. No more _what if’s_ and _maybe’s_. But you weren’t about to jeopardize your position with the only person in the galaxy you trusted, so you just pushed these little incidents to the back of your mind where they would stay. No awkwardness, no trouble, you just moved on and so did he. 

“This isn’t working.” That wasn’t entirely true. Din _had_ managed to relax, at least for a moment. But he stayed because he really did _want_ this to work. Another burst of thunder echoed through the room, albeit softer than the previous one, but still hardly what he would consider _soothing_. He took note of how you didn’t even flinch. He would chalk it up to poor survival instincts but he knew that wasn’t it. You wouldn’t be here now were that the case. 

“Try again. Clear your head and just _listen_. Nothing bad is going to happen if you let your guard down for just a few minutes.” You couldn’t guarantee that, of course, but the tone of your voice made Din _want_ to believe it so he was willing to try. “Close your eyes,” you echoed, needing no confirmation. 

You settled into a comfortable silence once again, this time with a little more success. To you it seemed as though Din was focused on the sound, same as you were. But it wasn’t the rain that let him finally begin to unwind. You’d told him to close his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. He was too focused on you. The occasional bolt of lightning would illuminate the room just long enough for him to mentally trace your silhouette against the darkness. The thunder that followed rolled over the two of you without so much as an acknowledgment. You took a long, slow breath and he found himself doing the same.

You could’ve fallen asleep right then and there but there were too many things on your mind. Luckily, it was easier to break the silence between you when the rain was already doing half the work. “Din,” you mumbled, making little effort to be heard over the downpour. But it was enough to get his attention. He could pick out your voice saying his name from across a battlefield if he had to. He tilted his head toward you, knowing it was all the sign you needed to continue. “How come your friends don’t call you by your name?”

That… wasn’t what he expected. Well, he hadn’t expected anything really, but especially not that. The question seemed out-of-place for the moment, so it must have been bothering you. “No one says my name anymore.” He could’ve said more but he wasn’t sure what you needed to hear. 

“What about me? Should I stop calling you that?” You’d thought about it before. Din had told you his name under dire circumstances, against his better judgement no doubt. He clearly didn’t let others say it, so why should you? You feared that in doing so, you were putting him in an uncomfortable situation he was simply too polite to correct. In truth, you’d only waited this long to ask because you were afraid to stop. The idea of calling him ‘Mando’ again felt like a step backwards, like being pushed away. 

“ _No._ ” He answered more firmly than intended but it made it clear where he stood. “I mean… it’s alright. As long as it’s just us. I don’t mind.” Rather the opposite, in fact. He’d never admit it, but he’d grown quite fond of the way you said his name. You spoke softly, as if the word were sacred which, in a way, it was. You understood the weight of what you said. 

“It’s not against your Code?” There was just so much you didn’t understand. The Code felt like one of the biggest obstacles between the two of you, even on a surface level. It was possibly the most important aspect of his life and it was the thing you understood the least. 

Din sighed quietly, recognizing that the peace of the moment was gone. The rain seemed louder now, harsher. The patter against the metal roof was sharper despite no longer focusing on it. But this conversation had been a long time coming. “No, it’s not. This armor… it’s the important part.” It was an oversimplification, but he was sure you’d understand. In terms of how it affected your interactions, yes, the armor was more important. Although sometimes, after a particularly rough day, he’d find himself wondering just what was really important lately. But those were more thoughts he chose to bury. 

“You can’t be seen without your helmet.” It was a statement more than a question. The answer had long since been made clear to you. 

“If any living thing sees me without the helmet, I can never put it back on.” It was a line he’d recited in some form or another countless times but you were one of the few that actually understood what it meant. It wasn’t just about losing his armor. He would lose the only way of life he’d ever really known. 

There were endless ways of life throughout the galaxy. You’d barely scratched the surface yet the one right in front of you might just be the most puzzling. You knew there were complexities to the Mandalorian Code that you wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ ever understand but your experience extended solely to _your_ Mandalorian. You could only make assumptions based on him and him alone. “Sounds lonely.” It wasn’t a criticism, merely an observation. An attempt to understand.

“This is the Way.” There was nothing else to say, nothing else he _could_ say. Someone like him shed the notion of loneliness a long time ago. It wasn’t a question he had the privilege of asking himself. You, however, could only take it as a confirmation. 

The silence no longer held the calming weight of a few minutes prior, too many worries and doubts clouding both of your minds. The thunder had ceased, leaving only the pattering rain to interject your thoughts. You had more questions as per usual, but refrained from taking the leap. You always left that door open, giving him the chance to share what he wanted to and nothing more. Tonight just so happened to be the first time he really seized that opportunity. 

“I wasn’t born a Mandalorian. I’m not from Mandalore.” He paused to let you respond, but you merely watched him in anticipation. You wouldn’t even know what to ask about Mandalore, after all. “I was a Foundling. The Mandalorians took me in when… when my parents were killed. They raised me until I was of age. That’s when I took up the Creed, when I put on the helmet.” 

You weren’t sure what to say. It was a lot for him to share with you. There was no way to get across any sort of understanding, not really. A part of you wanted to apologize but you didn’t. It was the same way when you’d told him your story. There was no need for pointless apologies or pity. Your silence was all you could offer and it was enough. 

It was a weight off of both of you, enough to let you slide back into something resembling the moment of peace you’d had before you began asking questions. You were both comfortable enough where you were, simply listening as the rain slowly let up. It was down a soft, lilting sound as the wind ebbed and flowed. You let your eyes drift shut, figuring that Din would leave when he felt like it. You silently hoped he’d stick around awhile, his presence providing a much-needed sense of stability. 

He was in no rush as it were. The rain was beginning to grow on him. Quiet moments were few and far between. He didn’t know how many more he’d get. He was sure you were asleep by now. Your breathing had slowed considerably, though he’d learned by now to be patient. You’d proven to be something of a light sleeper. You’d proven to be a lot of things, in fact. He didn’t know what to make of you. He grew more conflicted with every passing day. You were… _important_. He wouldn’t put in into words beyond that. He didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that there was, in fact, something between you. Because if he did that, then he ran the risk of doing or saying something that couldn’t be taken back. To put it simply, you were a comfort he was sure he couldn’t afford. 

Tired of chasing his thoughts in circles, he decided it was time to call it a night. He’d had enough introspection for awhile. He got up as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb you. Thankfully, what remained of the rain worked to cover him. His hand brushed your shoulder ever so lightly as he made his way to leave. He must’ve been more tired than he thought, as there wasn’t a thought in his head to stop the words that left his mouth. 

“Sleep well, _cyare_.” It was barely a whisper, so much so that he hadn’t realized it was said out loud until he was halfway across the room. He froze in his tracks, turning back to check once more that you were really asleep. You showed no sign of having heard him, _thank heavens_. What was he thinking? It was just a slip of the tongue, that’s all. He so rarely spoke Mando’a and that was a word he hadn’t even _heard_ in years. It was a simple term of endearment. There was no reason to worry about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean it, just— oh that’s enough. He needed to get some sleep. 

-

The next morning felt the same as any other. Din was taking care of the child as usual and the sun was still low enough for its hazy light to spill through the blinds in long, grasping rays. The only difference was the distinct scent of rain-soaked soil. It didn’t matter what planet you were on, the smell was always as pleasant as it was indescribable. 

“You get any sleep?” You took your usual seat across from the Mandalorian, resting your chin on your hand as the last remnants of sleep refused to let go. 

“Yes. He slept through the storm as well.” The child was by far the most hyperactive of the three of you. He’d slept like, well, like a baby and was ready to face the day. 

Some of the kid’s energy must’ve rubbed off on you, as just looking at him seemed to wake you up. He finished eating without fuss for once and proceeded to look between the two of you expectantly, waiting to head out on whatever adventure you had planned for the day. Not that you had anything exciting going on, but everything was an adventure when you’re a foot tall and also a toddler. 

You gave Din a look, squinting a bit as you debated your next words. He gave no reaction, if he even noticed at all, so you went ahead and asked. “What does ‘ _cyare_ ’ mean?” 

If you weren’t sure of your pronunciation at first, his reaction made it clear that he _definitely_ understood you. He flinched as if he’d just heard a gunshot, very nearly dropping the child who he’d been in the process of moving to the floor, much to the little one’s annoyance. If you didn’t know better, you’d even say you heard him swear under his breath. 

“It— um, don’t worry about it.” Of _course_ you’d been awake. Just his luck. He couldn’t tell you what it meant of course, so his only options were deny, deny, deny. “It wasn’t important.” 

You weren’t stupid. He was deflecting, obviously. Although he usually had a bit more tact in avoiding topics when he wanted to. You just had to know what had him so off his game. It couldn’t be that big of a deal, not after some of the stuff he’d said last night. “Then why are you so jumpy about it, hm?” You hated to admit it, but it was kind of fun watching the ever-stoic hunter fumble over something so trivial. 

“Seriously, it’s...” _It’s nothing_ was what he was going to insist, but he recognized that mischievous glint in your eye. You weren’t letting this go. “...Mando’a. It’s just an exclamation, sort of. Doesn’t translate well.” Once again, saving his hide with a half-truth. Someday that was going to stop working on you. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard you speak Mando’a before.” Your interest was piqued. Perhaps last night had been a turning point after all. You were happy for any opportunity to learn more. 

“I don’t very often.” There were a few reasons for that. For one, he so rarely ran into anyone else that knew it. Even the Mandalorians from the old covert primarily spoke Basic. To be honest, Din barely considered himself fluent anymore. He knew quite a number of tongues, after all. They got harder to retain over the years if he didn’t use them. “It’s not used much anymore.” As far as he was aware, that was true. 

“Could you teach me? Even just a little?” It wasn’t purely curiosity driving you. If it was as rare as Din said, then perhaps there were tactical advantages as well. You never know when people might be eavesdropping. Although that may mostly just be an excuse. 

It was an odd request, though Din was having a difficult time coming up with a good reason to say no. “I’m barely conversational as it is. It’ll just be a waste of time.” They were weak as far as excuses went. The former was true but lately you’ve had nothing but time. Really, he was still just trying to steer away from what he’d said last night. 

“It could come in handy, you know.” You dropped the subject there, recognizing the right time to stop pushing. He mumbled something along the lines of _‘maybe later’_ and you counted that as a win. 

-

It was around midday when you were outside letting the child play. Din had stuck around for the day so far, leaving the two of you to make small talk during your mutual baby-sitting duty. 

You were sat atop a rocky ledge, the only dry area of ground you could find. The kid was merrily hopping through puddles, something Din had tried (and failed) to discourage. You turned back to Din who stood with his arms crossed, weight shifted to one side. “How come he doesn’t have a name?” 

“He probably does. He just can’t tell us.” He’d wondered about that himself on multiple occasions. But until the kid began speaking, it would remain a mystery. 

“Don’t you get tired of calling him ‘kid?’” You found it only marginally better than when people called him ‘it.’ 

“I can’t just give him a new name.” The idea felt wrong, like erasing a part of the child’s identity. Whoever his birth parents were, they likely had given him a name that was very important to them. 

“Well, think of it as a nickname!”

“‘Kid’ _is_ a nickname.”

“You’re seriously just going to call him that forever?”

Fine, he’d bite. Sometimes he swore you were getting more defiant with every passing day. Kind of like the child, in fact. “What exactly did you have in mind?” He sighed, bracing for the worst. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe he can help pick out his name.” You turned to the child who seemed oddly invested in the conversation. Whether or not he really understood what you were saying, he could definitely tell it was about him. “What about… Gil?” The kid only tilted his head a little, continuing to watch you curiously. 

Din sighed. “He doesn’t understand.” Not to mention he kind of hated the name, but he wouldn’t tell you that. 

You scoffed and gave him a dismissive wave. “I think he understands more than you give him credit for.” You hopped off your ledge and crouched down to get closer to the child. “Maybe… Jado?” You’d had a childhood friend with that name. The kid, however, kind of scrunched up his face and grumbled in a very-much-doesn’t-like-that sort of way. 

Behind you, Din audibly chuckled. “Give it a rest.”

“Hold on, hold on. We’re getting somewhere.” There had to be a good name for this kid. You thought long and hard, trying to think of what would suit him. You hummed in contemplation. Unbeknownst to you, the child was equally deep in concentration. You assumed the slight squint of his eyes was just a lingering reaction to the previous name. It was then that it hit you; the perfect name. It popped up completely out of nowhere and you were immediately set on it. “Grogu.”

The child perked up quite noticeably. He even gave a cheerful chirp, a sound neither of you had quite heard from him before. He must really like the name. 

“Where’d that come from?” Din was more curious now. He joined you by the child, paying no mind to the mud as he knelt on one knee. 

“I don’t know, it just sort of popped up randomly. It suits him though. Isn’t that right, _Grogu?_ ” The child chirped again. 

Din had to admit that the kid seemed happy. He never responded like that to anything else. “I suppose it’s alright. Grogu, huh?” If the kid— _Grogu—_ had been excited when you said his name, he was doubly so hearing it from his dad. He smiled and his little baby teeth made a rare appearance. It wasn’t often that he got this excited. Usually he was a very quiet child which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t a great sign. 

“Well that settles it—“ Unfortunately, the happy moment was cut short by the sound of footsteps fast approaching. You both shot to your feet, turning to see Cara Dune who looked like she had bad news. 

“Hate to interrupt the moment,” she glanced between the two of you briefly before addressing Din specifically. “But we found something. A signal coming from down in the tunnels.”

“The old covert? Have you checked it out yet?” There was a tension in Din’s voice you hadn’t heard for days now. Even his body language had shifted drastically in barely a second. He was clearly itching to get moving. 

“Not yet, wanted to grab you first. We going?” Cara looked at both of you again, making it clear the question wasn’t just for Din. 

“Come on.” He picked up the newly-named Grogu and gestured for you to follow, hurriedly heading back into town with Cara. You wasted no time in doing the same, secretly excited to finally see some action. As nice as it was to not fear for your life every day, things had started to become… _stagnant_. Hopefully you wouldn’t come to regret that thought too quickly. 

-

“It’s pretty garbled, but here it is.” Cara pressed something on the console in front of you and a hologram flickered to life displaying a code you couldn’t read. It was pretty fuzzy, a lot of segments glitched or missing entirely. Even if you knew the language better, you probably wouldn’t get much from it. The audio that accompanied wasn’t much better. _“Authoriz— code 1-1-E—“_ Static interrupted the recording regularly and even what you could hear was muffled and distorted. The most you could glean from it was that it was a woman’s voice. _“Reporting on— there’s— requesting update— Cantonica— proceed as planned.“_ The rest was too fuzzy to make out. 

“Not giving us much to go on.” You shot Din a worried look. He was especially restless, no doubt from going so long without any leads. But unless you figured out something with that transmission, it was going to be another dead end. 

“Can you do anything to clear it up?” Din was still holding Grogu, who didn’t seem particularly interested in grown-up talk right now. When the kid started fussing, you silently stepped in and took him from Din, moving him to his pack that you’d learned to always keep with you. 

“I did. This is as good as it gets.” Cara didn’t sound particularly optimistic. She’d become equally frustrated in the past week or so after facing nothing but dead ends. It was clear neither her nor Din were particularly suited for espionage. 

“So all we really know is that it was coming from the tunnels...” Din said, his tone turned bitter. “I say we go down there, see if we can find any other evidence. Maybe even where the transmission was going.” 

That gave you an idea of your own. “Actually, if we can find the device this was sent from, I might be able to restore it.” It may be a long shot, but it was one worth trying. 

“Alright then. Seems like the best shot we’ve got.” As much as Din would’ve preferred not to return to the covert again, it didn’t look like they had much of choice. This was the first real lead since coming to Nevarro and there was no way he was going to risk losing it. 

-

You had no idea exactly what you were walking into. It wasn’t until you’d gotten underground that Din explained what this place was. 

“It’s the old Mandalorian covert,” he said, tone grim and hushed. Between that and the decrepit state of the place, it was clear these tunnels brought back bad memories. “I spent a lot of time here.”

Cara was up ahead and didn’t seem to hear your conversation or simply didn’t find that it was her place to get involved. Either way, she’d kept quiet for the most part until you reached a branching corridor. “We should split up. Cover more ground that way. If anyone’s down here, we’ll get the drop on them.” She turned to head off on her own before the Mandalorian stopped her. 

“Wait. I’ll go alone,” he insisted. 

“Mando—“ Cara shot him a look to refute him, but Din was already moving. He turned back to you quickly, however, to say one last thing. 

“Stay safe.” He nodded toward your pack, where Grogu was quietly tucked away. You’d thought about leaving him behind, but there wasn’t time to return home. You simply nodded in return and he seemed to hesitate before leaving. He only hoped you’d understood his message. Keep yourself safe as much as the child. 

Cara Dune, now a Marshal, took it upon herself not long after the Imperials were run off to keep the scavengers out of the abandoned Mandalorian enclave. There were some rather… _disreputable_ types that had tried to lay claim to whatever was left, not that there was much. In her venture, she managed to become familiar with these tunnels, allowing her to navigate them as easily as the Mandalorians once had. 

It was quiet between the two of you, mostly on account of the fact that danger could be lurking around any corner. But some minutes later, with no sight or sound of trouble, the tension seemed to have eased. “So, I hate to pry but I’ve been meaning to ask...” She trailed off, waiting for your confirmation. 

You’d spoken with Cara very little since your arrival and only ever while Din was present. That meant the conversation was only ever about business. You couldn’t quite get a read on her. You got the sense that she might be wary of you. Not intimidated, certainly, but simply… vigilant. It was understandable. You showed up one day with the Mandalorian with no real explanation of who you were or where you came from after all. She only trusted you because he did. Hopefully, you could earn that trust yourself. “Go for it.”

“How’d you end up with Mando? He’s been pretty quiet about you.” 

“Has he?” You figured he would’ve said something to the others by now. At least how you wound up onboard, more or less. 

The incident with Kelan had left the Mandalorian with a heavy sense of guilt. It wasn’t a matter of distrusting his friends by any means, but Din felt he had betrayed you and decided it wasn’t his right to speak of your past anymore. That right was yours alone. Thus he had shared almost nothing about you to his allies and they hadn’t asked, until now of course.

“It’s kind of a long story,” you trailed off before realizing that made it sound like you didn’t want to talk about it. Truthfully, it really was just a long story. But you could share the early bits. “To be completely honest, I snuck aboard his ship.”

Cara scoffed, struggling to believe you. It took quite a stretch of the imagination to see you going from a stowaway to someone the Mandalorian trusted. “Why the hell would you do that?” 

You just shrugged. “Didn’t know who he was. I just needed a lift.”

“The armor didn’t tip you off? Never seen a Mandalorian before?” She arched an eyebrow at you.

This was where things got tricky. You weren’t sure how much of your history you wanted to share, at least here and now, but it was hard to explain otherwise. You’d just have to stick with being vague. “Never even heard of them before him. Let’s just say I didn’t get out much.”

She gave no sign whether that was a satisfactory answer or not, though you doubted it. “Must’ve been a wild story. He really trusts you if he lets you take the kid.” 

Grogu cooed quietly from his pack at the mention but otherwise remained still. He’d come to understand when a situation was serious enough that he should stay hidden for his own safety. 

You smiled and shook your head lightly. “Took awhile to get to that point. Sometimes I don’t even know how. I guess getting each other out of life-threatening situations will do that.”

She chuckled at that, not surprised to hear the Mandalorian had continued to get himself into trouble after he’d left. “Yeah that sounds about right.” She trailed off and you took it as the end of the conversation, but you were wrong. She was noticeably hesitant, however, when she spoke again. “So you two… What’s the deal there or…? Actually, never mind. It’s none of my business.” She backtracked firmly, convinced she was crossing some sort of line. But she couldn’t help but be reminded of the weeks she’d spent with the Mandalorian on Sorgan. She’d made a comment to him back then about Omera, to which he made it clear that settling down wasn’t really an option. But from what little she’d seen, he seemed even closer with you. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking. 

The question caught you off guard to say the least. You wouldn’t have guessed that your interactions with Din were anything out of the ordinary for him really, at least not around the others, but you wouldn’t be the one to know. “I— well…” You struggled to come up with a response. 

Cara cut you off. “Seriously, forget I said anything.” 

“No, no.” You wanted to clear some things up. “Look, I owe him— _a lot_. He might say otherwise but truly, he’s taken some great risks to help me. I don’t really have anything left so… let’s just say that means a lot to me.”

You each let the subject drop, for real this time. You weren’t sure if the tension in the air was from the conversation or your own inner turmoil on the matter. Luckily you didn’t have to dwell on it long as a clatter sounded from a distant tunnel. Both you and Cara darted to the wall, drawing your weapons and preparing for trouble ahead. 

“Follow my lead,” she whispered quickly. You nodded and followed close behind her. 

There were a couple more noises, small clinks of metal being moved or bumped. As you got closer, it became clear that the sound had come from a branching tunnel on your right. After checking around the corner, Cara signaled for you to cross over to the other side of the doorway. You did so as silently as possible, just in time to hear a voice getting closer. 

“I’m telling you I heard something.” It was a man’s voice, clearly nervous. 

“Then go _check_.” A woman’s voice this time, more annoyed than anything. You recognized it as the voice from the transmission and judging by the look you shared, so did Cara. 

Footsteps slowly made their way towards you, hesitant and uneven. Whoever this guy was, he was awfully jumpy. Cara made a gesture you didn’t quite understand but the gist of it seemed to be to _stay back_. She pointed to somewhere behind you and you understood what she meant, noticing there was a low barrier a few feet back. You jumped behind it as fast as you could without being heard, prepared to offer cover fire for Cara. You weren’t sure exactly what she was planning, but she seemed to be taking the offensive. 

You noticed the rifle before the man himself as he rounded the corner. He turned your way just in time for you to duck out of sight. With his back turned to her, Cara took the opportunity to for a surprise attack, grabbing the man with one hand over his mouth to muffle his shouts. At the same time, you shot up from your hiding place, blaster aimed straight for the man. He struggled for a moment but stopped as soon as he saw you. Cara had him held firm and the threat of being shot was enough to keep him that way. You held up a finger to your lips, silently warning him as you listened intently for any reaction from his partner down the hall. 

Despite your gun still trained on him, he took the opportunity while you peeked around the corner to attempt his escape, jabbing his elbow into Cara’s gut, momentarily throwing her off as he spun around. He fired a shot at her but at such close range and with a gun like that, it was pointless. Cara grappled with the man, trying to pry the rifle from his grasp. You sprinted over, the need for silence forgone. You would’ve fired at him but there was too high a chance you’d hit Cara. She managed to take control before you reached them, however. In true rebel-fashion, she head-butted the man and seized the opportunity to toss aside his weapon. He scrambled backwards as they each had to take a second to recover. 

With some distance now between them, you decided to take the shot but at nearly point-blank range, he managed to grab hold of your arm, sending the blast over your heads. His free hand locked around your throat as he practically threw you backwards, your blaster clattering to the ground. Your hands reflexively flew to his arm, a familiar heat gathering in your palms. The light under your hands burned into his flesh as let out a cry of pain, letting go and clutching at his scorched arm. At the same time, Cara resorted to her blaster, putting a bolt straight through the man’s chest. 

You wheezed for a moment as the pain slowly faded from your throat, stooping to pick up your gun. Cara looked at you in shock, not even waiting for you to recover. “What the hell was that?!” She sort of shook her hand and gestured at yours, referencing the powers you’d just displayed. 

“Remember—“ You coughed. “Remember when I said it was a long story?”

The sound of footsteps hurrying away from you got both of your attention. Apparently the sounds of your fight were enough to convince the woman that fleeing was the better option. 

“Later. We need to move.” Cara took off towards the sound and you followed. Ahead of you, shots were fired. You and Cara shared a look of understanding as you came to the same conclusion. 

You raced faster to help the Mandalorian who had clearly also found your target. The two of you rounded a corner just in time to be shot at. Cara, who’d been in front of you, dodged to the left just in time, ducking into a recess in the wall. You, however, didn’t respond quite as fast. An arm reached out for you before you had a chance to react, wrapping around your waist and pulling you to the right just as another shot flew through the spot where your head had been less than a second ago. 

You found yourself in the alcove opposite Cara’s, now face-to-face with none other than the Mandalorian. Quite literally so, as the space was very small. You could feel the cold press of Beskar through your shirt and you had to tilt your head back to avoid smacking your nose into his helmet. His arm remained tight around your waist as another shot rang out, making impact with the wall just out of reach. You vaguely heard the sound of Cara returning fire but you were too distracted by the fire that felt like it was rushing to your face. Hopefully Din’s visor was too dark for him to see any color that tinted your cheeks. The sound of his sharp inhale was drowned out by the blare of blaster fire. It wasn’t easy to catch him off-guard in the middle of a firefight, but that was exactly what happened. He had grabbed you without thinking in an attempt to protect you. The close-quarters of the space had not dawned on him at the time but now it was the only thing on his mind. 

“Hey!” Cara shouted and you both snapped back to the real world. Din let go of you and stepped out of cover, another shot ricocheting of his armor. It was a risky move but he pushed forward. You and Cara were forced to remain behind, what with no sort of protection from being shot. The best you could do was offer the occasional cover fire. 

He crossed into the open room with little hesitation. The woman could be heard cursing under her breath between shots as each one failed to do any damage to the Mandalorian. There was a moment of cease-fire, leading Din to halt in his tracks. Something wasn’t right. But as he weighed the options of either falling back or charging forward, the woman had calculated her own risk and decided that the odds were not in her favor, meaning she would have to take drastic measures. 

“That’s close enough.” She stepped out from her cover with a sense of calm determination that sent a chill up your spine. Her gun was lowered, no longer serving much use in her situation, but what she held up in her other hand was far more dangerous. “One more step and I’ll bring this whole place down on our heads.” In her hand was a small piece of metal with no real distinguishing features, but its function was clear. A quick glance at the ceiling and Din could clearly see the charges that had been set, their wires snaking around the room in what was clearly a rush-job. He could tell from experience just how much damage would be done. The room they stood in would collapse, but the adjoining tunnel where you and Cara were should be safe. In a split-second calculation, he decided the odds of his survival were high enough. 

While you watched the situation unfold, a realization struck you. Behind the woman, nearly hidden in the dark corners of the room, was a terminal. No doubt the one you were looking for. She had been smart to rig the room to collapse. She wanted to make sure there would be no evidence remaining. To use it as a trap was only a last resort. Din’s gun was lowered, but you saw the slightest shift in his arm that made it clear his intention. He was willing to bring the place down in order to prevent the target’s escape. That made it clear to you that you were safe where you were. You had no doubt that Din had calculated that risk. Unfortunately, you had to move if you were to prevent what was about to happen. 

In the silence of the stalemate, you moved quickly. You removed the pack holding Grogu as carefully as possible, placing him gently on the ground without ever leaving cover. If this went sideways, at least he would be out of harm’s way. Cara shot you a look of disbelief. Either you were about to do something really smart, or really, _really_ stupid. But there wasn’t time to explain as you left the safety of the alcove, reaching Din just as he was about to take the shot. You grabbed for him just in time, gripping his arm with as much strength as you could. “Don’t,” was all you said, cautious of what you could say in earshot of the woman. 

He would’ve pulled free of your grasp fairly easily, but the look on your face made it clear you had noticed something he hadn’t. Your eyes darted somewhere in the woman’s direction and then quickly back to him, the only message you could convey without giving away your intentions. When he looked back at the woman, detonator still in hand, he finally saw the terminal that you had risked such a stunt for. 

The woman looked to you coldly, displaying a sense of calm that made it clear that she was in control of the situation. “Glad to see someone is making the smart decision. Now, if you don’t want to die today, you will lay down your weapons and turn back.” 

Din turned his head ever so slightly toward you, never taking his eyes off the woman. He whispered your name as quietly as he could, enough that even his vocoder failed to pick it up. You only heard the muffled sound through the solid metal. You gave the faintest squeeze on his arm to acknowledge you’d heard him. “Do you trust me?” Was all he said, still not facing you directly. 

You didn’t know what was going through his head and every possible outcome you imagined going wrong but you pushed it aside. If he knew what he was doing, then you trusted him completely. “Yes.”

It felt as if time had been frozen and then suddenly plunged into hyper speed. In the split-second you’d needed to respond, you let go of the Mandalorian’s arm, allowing him to respond just as quickly. If he had worried that the past couple weeks had made him slow, he was wrong. With lightning reflexes honed by years of experience, he fired at the woman’s hand, taking a massive risk in the process. His shot hit its mark as she dropped the detonator, crying out in pain and clutching her now-useless hand. You hesitated just long enough to see the shot land, making your move as soon as it was clear that the ceiling wasn’t about to cave in. You sprinted for the terminal as more shots went off behind you. Cara took the opportunity to rejoin the fight as the woman ducked behind cover again. With her only leverage now gone, she saw no other choice but to make a break for it. She scurried for a doorway behind her, scrambling up a ladder towards the surface.

“I’ll follow her, you get the transmission!” Cara took off after her, not pausing for confirmation. 

There was a moment where Din was torn between going after her as well and staying behind, but he trusted that Cara could handle it. That wasn’t the end of the panic, however. “Where’s the kid?” 

“He’s back in the alcove!” You shouted over your shoulder, inputing the commands onscreen as quickly as you could. It was unfamiliar tech, even from what you’d had access to since escaping the Imperials, but you were clever enough to figure it out. But it wasn’t a matter of skill that kept you from the information you needed. The machine repeatedly emitted a harsh error tone, earning a grunt of frustration from you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Din returned with Grogu in hand, the little one none the wiser to the situation at hand.

“It’s gone, it’s all gone!” You banged your fist against the cold metal of the machine as it let out another error message, ignoring the pain that shot up your arm at the impact. 

“What do you mean, _it’s gone_?” 

“I mean the data! I can’t recover anything! She must’ve wiped it before we got here. Probably while we were dealing with that other guy.” A sense of failure washed over you as you continued fiddling with the console, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to work. 

“Then why’d she rig the place? What’s the point if there’s nothing left?” 

You clutched the sides of the terminal, unable to face the Mandalorian. You replayed the events in your head, trying to answer that question yourself. That woman was smart, clearly. She wouldn’t have gone to the extra effort for nothing. You let out a shaky breath as your grip tightened on the dusty console, fingernails scraping harshly against the metal. Your head shot up as it hit you, realizing what a fool you were. “It was a bluff. She knew we’d prioritize getting to the terminal rather than her so she made us think the explosives were her only contingency plan. That way she could escape while we were trying to restore the signal.”

Din looked up towards the ladder she’d escaped through. He was about to join the pursuit himself, desperately hoping it wasn’t too late, but the sound of the exit hatch opening made him pause. Cara dropped into view, barely climbing halfway down before delivering the news. “She got away. Stole a speeder and took off for the wasteland.” 

“Are there any others we can take?” Din was desperate at this point. You’d gotten so close, he wasn’t about to let the target slip through his fingers now. 

“We’ve got one other bike but there’s no way you’ll catch up.” She shook her head in defeat, which wasn’t something to take lightly. If Cara was ready to give up the fight, you _knew_ the situation was dire. 

“I’m going after her.” Din wasn’t budging on the matter, that much was clear. He even handed over Grogu to you, who seemed to sense something was wrong, letting out a quiet cry when Din began to walk away. 

In a moment of panic, you grabbed at his cape, desperate to stop him. “You can’t go by yourself. You have no idea where she’s going! What if she’s got reinforcements?” The idea of him running off on his own out into the wasteland terrified you. If something happened to him out there, you may never be able to find him. You wouldn’t let him be lost to you forever. 

Cara must’ve agreed with you, as she didn’t budge from her spot when Din attempted to leave, effectively blocking him from the exit. “That’s a good point, Mando. We have no idea what’s out there.”

“Well what do you suggest?” Din’s usually-calm demeanor was faltering. He’d only raised his voice a little but the difference it made was astronomical. The weight of this whole mission, of hitting nothing but dead ends, of being suspicious of every little thing had been getting to him. Now that a solution may be within reach, he would hold onto it with a death grip. 

Cara took just as much notice of this shift in attitude. She looked over at you and recognized the fear in your expression, silently pleading with her to stop him from doing something irrational. If there was something that the Mandalorian needed right now, it was someone to keep him grounded. So, in a surprising turn of events that once would’ve gone against her nature, she made an offer. “The bike will carry two, you guys go. You can leave the kid with me. I need to let Karga know what’s going on.” 

Din looked to you, his instincts telling him he should refuse to let you go, that he could handle it himself, even if another part of him knew that you and Cara were right. So the decision was ultimately up to you. 

You nodded resolutely. “I’m going too, then.” With that settled, you handed Grogu off to Cara, who still seemed a bit awkward about carrying him but willing nonetheless. You all made your way back to the surface quick as you could, mentally bracing yourself for what would no doubt be even more trouble ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all can thank episode 15 for getting me hyped up to finish this chapter early. Also because I’m SUPER excited for the next chapter. This one was a longer one to set up for it so get excited! :) Obviously I won't be uploading again before the season finale but I'm sure it'll mess me up real good which means I'll have to turn to writing to handle it, so there's a silver lining


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally here! The chapter I’ve been working towards for like a year! If you’ve read my old fic, you’ll recognize part of this chapter, but obviously new and improved. This might be my favorite chapter I’ve written so far and after that season finale, I think we all deserve a little something special.
> 
> (Warning for slightly graphic violence in this chapter. I wouldn’t call it worse than anything we’ve seen in canon but just to be safe)

You weren’t the biggest fan of speeder bike travel so far. Ash and dirt were whipped into the air, forcing you to close your eyes and bury your face into the Mandalorian’s cape just to keep from breathing it in. To top it off, the wind whipping around you made it nearly impossible to hear and your ears were getting cold. It was one of the rare occasions where you envied Din’s helmet. 

On the plus side, Din was warm enough to make up for the frigid air. Other than where your hands were pressed tightly against his chestplate, he radiated body heat. You could only hope he didn’t notice when you hugged him tighter, trying to pass it off as simply readjusting your grip. 

He did, in fact, notice. So much so that he was probably paying more attention to you than to the terrain in front of him. His heads-up-display tracked the heat trail left by your target’s speeder as long as you were fast enough. He did, however, find himself straying from that trail now and then as his focus drifted elsewhere. Luckily, you had no way of knowing. 

It was barely half an hour ago that he’d been in a similar position. The two of you crammed into cover, your touch alone enough to make him momentarily forget you were under attack. It was as if his years of finely-tuned instincts had been thrown clear out the window, however briefly. It was a dangerous effect you’d begun having on him and you weren’t even aware of it. 

You rode like this for some time, adrenaline slowly fading as the threat became less immediate. You had to remind yourself what you were potentially walking into, careful not to let your guard down. The Mandalorian was just such a reaffirming presence, especially in this scenario. It was hard _not_ to feel safe, almost as if the immunities granted by his armor were vicariously extended to you, however ridiculous the idea may be. 

It had been long enough that you were starting to worry Din had lost the trail. After all, the target had had a considerable head start. Just as you were deciding whether or not to speak up, you felt the bike begin to slow. Up ahead was a rocky ridge that dropped into a shallow ravine. Din stopped the bike a ways back and signaled for you to stay quiet. 

You followed as he approached the ledge, peering carefully over the side. He drew back almost immediately, gesturing for you to get down. 

“Is it her? Did she see you?” you whispered as you knelt down, careful to stay far enough from the ledge to remain hidden. 

“It’s definitely her. I don’t think she saw me.” It was difficult for Din to whisper and still have his vocoder register the sound. It resulted in a sort of static sound humming beneath his voice. 

“What’s she doing?” You chanced a peek over the ridge but the sight below provided more questions than answers. The woman was pacing erratically, stopping occasionally to fiddle with a device in her hand or tap her foot impatiently. You thought you could hear her talking but the words were indecipherable. “Can you hear her?” 

“Hold on.” Din pressed a couple buttons on his vambrace and tilted his head toward the woman below, just barely able to make out her words. 

“Blast it! Are you kidding me?!” She cursed under her breath and threw up a hand in exasperation. She pressed a few more buttons on her communicator but it didn’t look like she was getting the result she wanted. Eventually she gave up, throwing the device to the ground with a huff before turning back to her bike. Without an ounce of hesitation, she slammed down the heel of her boot on the vehicle, only worsening whatever damage it must’ve sustained. “Those laser-brained _idiots_. Are they just going to leave me here!?”

Din turned back to you and took a few steps back from the ledge, signaling for you to do the same. He still kept his voice down, but a little bit of distance from your target wouldn’t hurt. “I think she’s trying to call for transport, maybe even reinforcements, but I don’t think it’s working. Either way, we need to get her quickly before anyone else shows up.”

“Alright so what’s the plan?” You figured he had a plan. He always did. 

Din silently scolded himself for not bringing his rifle. The two of you’d been in too much of a hurry when Cara had found you earlier, he didn’t think to stop and grab it from the house. It would’ve made this significantly easier. At this distance, there was no way he’d get an accurate shot at the target with just a blaster. Plus, it was important she stayed alive, at least long enough to get information out of. He couldn’t risk killing her on accident. “We’ll have to go down there. We’ve got the element of surprise, all we have to do find a way down without being spotted.” 

You hummed in thought a moment before returning to the ledge. It wasn’t far to where the target was, maybe 50 feet or so down, but it was enough that jumping definitely wasn’t an option. Peering further down the ravine, you noticed the sides sloped into a more shallow decline as opposed to a straight drop. This continued in both directions, the path weaving slightly out of view of your current position, giving you a perfect opportunity. “We split up, each taking one side. That way she’ll have nowhere to run.” 

As much as he would’ve preferred you remain closer to him, ideally somewhere behind him where you couldn’t get shot, he had to admit it was a smart plan. What the target had intended to use as a hiding place had become a perfect trap. Now if only the plan would go off without a hitch, which they never did. 

All was well at first. You each managed to make it down into the ravine without being spotted. At one point, the gravelly terrain slid beneath your feet, very nearly sending you sliding out of control down the slope but you managed to recover just in time. There was a tense silence as you froze, listening intently for any sign that she’d heard you. When only silence greeted you back, you resumed your careful pursuit. 

When you peered around the corner to catch sight of your target, you also caught a glint of light from across the space, alerting you to Din’s presence. The sun was just high enough in the sky to reach his armor, briefly lighting up the burnished metal before he ducked into the shadows. Luckily, the target was too occupied with her broken speeder to notice. 

With one last look between you for confirmation, Din stepped out of cover quickly, ready with a warning shot. The target, however, was apparently not as oblivious as she had seemed. As Din’s shot scattered the dirt at her feet, she returned fire with lethal intentions. When the blast ricocheted harmlessly off of Beskar, she quickly scanned her surroundings as the Mandalorian closed in. When she spotted you attempting to do the same, she took what might be her only opportunity at an upper-hand. 

She practically dove for you, catching you off guard. You had been prepared to take cover, expecting her to return fire, not charge at you. She was taking a gamble, leaving herself open to your attacks but she got lucky. Your first shot sailed mere inches by her shoulder. Your second was barely a millisecond too slow, the blast redirected into the rocky wall as she struck at your arm. You retaliated quickly enough to prevent your legs being swept out from under you, suddenly extremely thankful for the little bit of training the Mandalorian had given you.

You swung at the woman with an open hand, intending to use your powers for some serious damage. Unfortunately, she was just too faster for you, clearly having more training in hand-to-hand combat. She ducked under your arm, twisting around so she was behind you. In one swift motion, her right arm wrapped tightly around your neck, her left bringing her blaster up to your head. 

Din practically skidded to a halt on the loose soil, lowering his blaster which was now inadvertently aimed at you and raising his free hand to signal a ceasefire. He was just barely too far away to reach you, not that he could possibly move faster than the gun pressed against your skull. He’d made a mistake in assuming that the woman would target him since he was a bigger threat. She was smart enough to know she couldn’t fight him, not directly anyway, so she’d decided to use you instead. 

“Drop your weapon and step away, Mando.” Her voice was firm, not even the slightest tremble to signify any weakness. “Do it!”

He did so quickly, still keeping his hands up in a show of submission. A million calculations were running through his head. One of which was the confirmation of who this woman was exactly. She wielded an SE-14r Repeating Pistol, which happened to be standard issue for Imperial officers and troops. He’d learned to recognize it some time ago. Between that and the transmission she had sent out earlier, it was clear just what kind of threat you faced. All suspicions of new Imperial activity on Nevarro could be confirmed. But that wasn’t his top priority right now. 

Your heels dug into the ground as you attempted to maintain your balance. You had a death grip on the arm around your throat, though it wasn’t like you could throw her off of you. Even if you used your powers, you’d be shot immediately. Your only hope was reasoning, which you would have to rely heavily on the Mandalorian for. You could barely breathe at this moment, let alone speak. 

“Took you long enough to get here.” The Imp smirked with all the confidence in the galaxy. It was typical Imperial behavior. She addressed the Mandalorian calmly, not unlike his own demeanor towards his usual quarries. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? The way I see it, there’s two ways this can end. One: You might capture me and take me back to face whatever passes for ‘New Republic justice’ around here, but your friend here will die by my hand. Surely not ideal. Two: I take your speeder and be on my merry way, not a drop of blood shed. If all goes well, we never see each other again. The choice is yours.”

It took more willpower than usual for Din to remain calm and it showed. “You pull that trigger and you’ll have worse things to fear than the New Republic.” He practically growled the threat, sending the faintest shiver up your spine. Din had honed his intimidation over the years, always maintaining a calm confidence in his tone that made it clear to his enemies that he was in control. You’d seen it yourself multiple times before but this was something else entirely. There was rage simmering just below his surface along with just a hint of something he so seldomly showed; fear. He was cornered prey, a serpent baring its fangs, despite the fact that you were the one at gunpoint. 

The Imp had the absolute _gall_ to laugh at him. “Oh, making threats, hm? Seems the lone bounty hunter has a soft spot for his crew. Or do you just like collecting pets? Is that it? After you stole the child as well? You just can’t keep your hands off other people’s property, can you?” 

Her voice was grating and cruel. She was much too entertained by this. She was hardly cowardly. The threat of death didn’t faze her. Even if she did ultimately escape, her goal was to cause as much damage as possible beforehand. That was far more dangerous. 

The Mandalorian didn’t even respond to the barrage of hypothetical questions being flung at him. All his usual tactics were useless here. He desperately needed the information this Imp had, but it seemed she was right in her initial judgement. There wasn’t an outcome here that worked in his favor. As much as he needed that information, he wouldn’t dare trade your life for it. 

The Imp was getting impatient, her grip on you tightening painfully. “Why so quiet, Mando? Loth-cat got your tongue?” She chuckled darkly at her own joke but it quickly shifted into a sigh. “Now you’re just wasting my time. You think I’m bluffing?” Without a moment’s hesitation, she shifted the blaster at your temple barely an inch out of the way before firing. The blast grazed your skin, leaving an angry red mark in its wake. Worse than that, however, was the sound. You never realized just how loud blasters were, not until one went off right in your ear. You let out a cry of pain that you couldn’t even hear over the shrill ringing that seemed to pierce your eardrum. You tried to reach up to check the damage, not sure if the warmth you felt was blood or simply the stabbing pain, but a tightened grip from the Imp warned you not to move. 

You saw Din dart forward a step, hand momentarily outstretched as he feared the worst. He froze again when realized the shot had merely been another warning. The only sign that he was speaking was the slightest tilt of his helmet, his voice completely drowned out by the ringing. You felt the Imp speak again more than you heard her, only barely able to make out her voice. The ringing seemed to subside a little as she spoke, allowing you to catch the last thing she said. “Take off the helmet.”

She knew exactly what she was doing. It was clear the Mandalorian must’ve cared at least _somewhat_ for you, otherwise he wouldn’t have complied thus far. She was simply testing the point to which his attachment extended. She was cruel for cruelty’s sake, even more so than much of her lot. But this spiral of events was beginning to make one thing clear: this woman had nothing to lose. Her reinforcements weren’t coming, she had nowhere to go even if she did escape. Whatever happened to her wasn’t important, so long as she took you both down with her. 

Your eyes widened at the demand and you struggled to loosen her hold enough to speak. “You’re insane! He can’t— agh!” She tightened her grip again, effectively cutting off your airways. 

“ _Shut up_ ,” she hissed, pressing the barrel of her gun harder into your temple. 

You knew he wouldn’t do it and you wouldn’t expect him to. The helmet didn’t come off for anyone, not even when you’d feared he was dying. 

But it seemed the universe was full of surprises. Time seemed to grind to a halt as the Mandalorian clenched his fists repeatedly in a nervous action he would have never let his enemies see under any other circumstances. After what felt like an eternity, you watched as his hands slowly drifted to his head, shaking more than you’d ever seen before. They remained firmly planted on either side of his helmet for a moment, thumbs tucked under the rim of the metal that was so integral to his way of life. 

You panicked as you realized what was happening, dumbfounded by what he was willing to sacrifice for you. But you decided you wouldn’t allow it, knowing full well that your attempt may prove fatal for you. You caught the faint hiss of air escaping as Din unlatched the helmet, taking that as your cue to act. Your hands had remained on the Imp’s arm, your grip nearly as tight as hers. Bracing yourself for whatever retaliation may follow, your power surged to your palms, burning deep into her flesh. She threw you to the ground with a feral cry of pain, not hesitating to take the shot.

You fully expected everything to go dark as you heard the shot ring out, but it seemed luck was finally on your side. The blast grazed your shoulder but you didn’t even register the pain. The adrenaline coursing through your system made sure of that.

The Mandalorian didn’t even acknowledge his discarded blaster, scrambling straight for you instead. He practically skidded to your side, throwing himself over you as a second shot reflected off his pauldron. He turned back to the Imp, never letting you leave his grasp, his flamethrower at the ready. She let out a frustrated growl but was still one step ahead, recognizing now that her fun was over. 

“ _Long live the Empire._ ” Her voice had gone cold, the confidence she’d fought to maintain completely tossed aside. In her last act of defiance, hellbent on avoiding interrogation, she did what any loyal Imperial soldier would do. In one swift motion, before Din even had time to process her intent, her blaster was pressed under her chin and with a satisfied smirk plastered on her face, it was over. 

You didn’t register what had happened immediately, your eyes scrunched shut as Din refused to loosen his grip. You assumed he had shot her as his attention returned to you, the feeling of his hand gently lingering on your arm. “I— I didn’t see your face, I swear.” You tried in vain to shove him off, your eyes still closed. The last thing you’d seen was the helmet just about to be removed and you had no intention of breaking his Creed, whether he was truly willing to sacrifice it or not. 

“Hey, it okay! The helmet’s still on, you can open your eyes.” He caught your flailing hand in his own, intent on keeping you from exaggerating your injuries. 

You could tell he was truthful by his voice, still faintly modulated by the vocoder, but you were hesitant regardless. You peeked your eyes open slowly, one at a time, letting out a sigh of relief upon sight of that familiar mask. You raised your hands to his helmet, letting them rest there in relief. He put his own hands over yours as you smiled, seemingly oblivious to the fate that very nearly befell you. “You’re hurt,” he uttered, lowering your hands slowly. 

Your smile dropped quickly, a look of confusion taking its place. “What?” You blinked a few times as it began to set in, Din’s hand drifted back to your injured arm. The pain kicked in as quickly as the adrenaline faded, a searing sensation quickly spreading out from the point of impact. You refused to let him know that, however, as you brushed his hand away. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” You weren’t. 

“You’re not.” Din recognized your lie on the spot, he himself having tried it on you not long after you met. It had resulted in you having to help patch him up. Unfortunately, without a medkit on hand, there was little he could do. 

“Forget it. What about the Imp? Is she—?” You leaned around him to catch a glimpse of the unmoving body not 10 feet away. 

“Dead. I couldn’t stop her.” _And save you_ , he thought. His arm that was still wrapped around you shifted reflexively, pulling you the slightest bit closer. He pictured the way the scene had very nearly played out, with yours and the Imp’s roles reversed so to speak. Although, had you died, the Imp wouldn’t have been far behind. His threat had been genuine. 

You sighed, wishing that just this once, things could’ve gone as planned. “I failed. I’m sorry...” You shook your head lightly, silently berating yourself. 

“No, no. _We_ failed, but it’s okay. _You’re_ okay.” Din tilted your chin up slightly with his free hand, forcing you to look at him. He let go suddenly, quick to move past what he feared was a moment of weakness. “We need to get back. Can you stand?” 

You insisted you could but that didn’t stop the Mandalorian from keeping one arm around your waist as you walked back to the speeder. He heard you wince as he got the bike started, your shoulder giving you trouble as you wrapped your arms around him again. If you didn’t get that taken care of quickly, it would soon hurt a lot more. 

The ride back was even colder, the sun beginning to get low. You weren’t sure if you would be able to get back before dark. Din was equally aware of this, stopping the bike about halfway back to town under the shelter of an overhanging rock formation. “We’ll have to camp out for the night. Nevarro’s not safe after dark, especially out in the open.”

You didn’t refuse as he helped you off the bike. You looked around at what must pass for flora on Nevarro. Dry, scraggly shrubs dotted the area, the only sign of life for miles. The uneven landscape formed a sort of cliff, under which you could shelter. You knew you were still far from town, which was surrounded mainly by flat lava plains for miles. You agreed it would be smarter to set up camp here but there was one concern on your mind. “What do you mean, ‘not safe?’” 

Din glanced towards the sky where the sun was hanging lower than he’d like. “Wildlife,” was all he said, making his point plenty clear. After a moment, he gestured for you to have a seat. “Let’s get that arm taken care of.” Stopping had been a difficult decision. A part of him wanted to push ahead, even if it meant traveling in the dark, just to get you medical attention more quickly. But the avian reptiles that called these lands home were simply too dangerous to risk running into. 

You didn’t argue when he took a seat next to you. He cradled your arm gently, getting a better look at your shoulder. It could’ve been worse, thankfully, but it would scar. The bleeding had stopped pretty quickly, but he could tell it hurt. The skin around the wound was singed and red, typical of blaster burns. But even if it wasn’t immediately threatening, there was a high risk of infection if not treated properly. That’s why he’d been so adamant on getting back tonight. The least he could do now was make sure it was covered up. 

You watched him curiously as he unfastened his cape. When he began to tear it, however, you reached out to stop him. “What are you doing? You’ll ruin your cape.” 

“That wound can’t stay exposed. Relax, it’s just a cape.” It was frayed at the edges anyway. A little more fabric torn away wouldn’t make a difference. Din, of course, wasn’t remotely aware of your affinity for the cape. It was one of the many things you wouldn’t admit to him, especially with how naive your attachment was. Ever since he’d loaned it to you that first cold night aboard the ship, you’d grown fond of the damn thing. You hated seeing it torn up over something you considered trivial but there was no way to explain that to Din. 

He didn’t move away even once your arm was wrapped up. He looked at you silently a moment and you were about to ask what the deal was when you were surprised by his hand reaching up to cup your face. You were awestruck for a moment, only able to stutter incoherently in response to his gentle touch. You resisted the urge to lean into his hand, the tough leather surprisingly comforting. It wasn’t until he swiped his thumb over your cheekbone that you realized what he was actually doing. Even that tiniest bit of pressure was enough to sting, making you wince. He withdrew his hand immediately which you somehow found more painful. 

“That’s going to leave a scar,” he said. “I’m sorry.” There was a sadness in his tone you would’ve expected more over, say, the death of a loved one rather than something as small as a scar. Especially since it wasn’t his fault. 

You chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. “It’s okay, really. There’s nothing wrong with a couple battle scars.”

He disagreed. A scar marked how close you were to a much worse fate. They were each reminders of a different failure. And now, when he looked at you, he’d be reminded again of his failure to protect you. But the light in your eyes when you smiled at him was a reminder too. It reminded him of _why_ he chose to protect you. Even if this whole mission had ultimately been a failure, he had one thing to celebrate. You were still here and you were still smiling. 

His hand paused on your good shoulder as he got to his feet, signaling for you to remain. “Stay here. I’m going get a fire going.” 

“I can help.” You tried to get to your feet, but he stopped you again. 

“I know you can, but I’ve got it. You just rest.” He took note of the annoyed look you gave him, glad you couldn’t see the slight smirk on his face. It was almost... cute, that look. You reminded him of Grogu when he was told not to do something. You might slap him if he said that out loud, though. 

So you settled in as best you could on the rocky ground, which wouldn’t be the worst place you’d slept. You’d once fallen asleep in a storage compartment on the Crest, after all. Even though the adrenaline had worn off and the soreness was kicking in, you still couldn’t bring yourself to sleep, even as the sky began to get darker. So instead, you just watched Din as he gathered tinder from the sparse shrubs. There was something relaxing about watching him carry out such a mundane task, as if there was nothing worse in the galaxy to worry about. You’d let yourself continue to indulge in that fantasy, at least for now. 

-

The sun sets fast on Nevarro. Just in the time it had taken to get a fire going, which wasn’t long considering the Mandalorian wielded a flamethrower, the sky had shifted to a reddish-orange as fiery as the planet’s molten rivers. In a few minutes, that too would be gone and the cover of night would draw out the more dangerous of Nevarro’s fauna. Luckily, the rocks should provide enough cover. 

For the brief few moments that color saturated the usually-dull landscape, you were reminded of home. You had yet to visit a planet whose sunsets could even compare to Vollalei’s. It was a beautiful planet, especially compared to each one you’d visited since. You hated to think of it now, or whatever was left of it. Between the wars that ultimately led to your people’s downfall and the Empire swooping in to scavenge what was left, you imagined it looked about like the scene in front of you. A barren wasteland with only the sunsets remaining of its former beauty. 

While your sights were set off on the horizon, eyes slightly squinting against the last dying rays of light, Din’s focus was on you. While the events of the day had held little success, he couldn’t help but feel some relief. The town would be safer at least for awhile and more importantly, so would you. You were safe and by his side. It was undeniable at this point; he was drawn to you in a way he thought he’d never feel. Almost losing you again had forced him to finally acknowledge that fact. 

He had always held those around him at a safe distance. Until fairly recently, there wasn’t even anyone that he would deem more than an associate or acquaintance at best. But things had been changing for him quite a lot lately. He wasn’t the same man as even a year ago. There were people he trusted, people he wanted to protect. You were of course the most recent addition to this list. Somehow, you’d managed to break him open little by little and he allowed it. Just so long as you stuck around. 

You were a mystery, like a puzzle that he kept finding new pieces to. He wanted to see the big picture and maybe, just maybe, he could be part of it. But he’d long since resigned himself to a life spent alone, and that hadn’t changed. Even Grogu couldn’t stay with him forever, regardless of what he wanted. Although, Din wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, not when it came to you. His life wasn’t one that allowed the privilege of want. There were lines that were not to be crossed. He’d nearly crossed one of them today and that terrified him. Even thinking back, he couldn’t say whether he was going to go through with it or not. 

At one point you’d compared him to a droid; cold and expressionless. You couldn’t have been more wrong. The Mandalorian exhibited more emotion than most people you’d met, it was just a matter of knowing how to read him. Every subtle movement of his body, every seemingly imperceptible shift in his breathing, it all told exactly what he was feeling. Once you knew how to see it, he became an open book, all without saying a word. And right now, everything about him told you that something was bothering him, something he couldn’t deal with on his own. It was just a matter of whether or not you were ready to risk crossing that line. 

“You should’ve seen it, Din.” You turned to face him and he made no attempt to hide the fact that he’d been watching you. “Vollalei,” you clarified. You gave him a sad smile, trying to focus on the good memories. “It was beautiful. I never thought I’d miss it this much.” 

Everything he thought to say seemed wrong. He couldn’t find the right words hidden in the narrow space between sympathy and pity, so he opted to remain silent. You only got the slightest bow of his head to express his thoughts, but it was enough. You understood him. 

You turned away to avoid him seeing the shine in your eyes as a few tears threatened to spill. You tilted your head to the sky, passing off the action as simply admiring the stars that had begun to reveal themselves. You were lucky it was another one of Nevarro’s rare nights of clear skies. When you were confidant the moment had passed and your voice wasn’t going to break, you took the chance to steer the conversation in another direction. “What was your home like?”

It was dark enough now to see the reflection of the flames dance in your eyes. The shadows that played across your face hid the dark circles, the signs of stress that had begun to show. Din wondered if you’d been lying about how much sleep you got. 

“I don’t remember a lot.” He’d been young when his parents were killed, but not so young as to not think of their home-planet as his own. It was the closest thing to a home he had, or at least it once was. “I was young when the Mandalorians took me in.” 

You thought he had it worse off; barely any memories to hold onto, lacking that sure sense of identity. Your memories of your family were the one thing that couldn’t be taken from you. You wouldn’t trade them for the world. Funnily enough, he saw it the other way around. It was better sometimes not to remember. Not everything, of course, but some things. It made it easier to distance himself, to move on, if you could call it that. Whereas you had years weighing you down, he rarely thought of home. But even he couldn’t say he didn’t still miss it once in awhile. 

“There are a few things I do remember.” Din hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on these things in years, let alone share them with anybody. He’d waited long enough. “I remember how warm the summers were. Running around the fields outside of town. The music that people played in the streets.” Senses, _feelings._ Nothing concrete but still just as impactful. It made him long for those feelings, a thought he’d long since given up on. “I... I wish I could hear those songs again.”

His voice didn’t so much break as splinter. A tiny fraction of a breath out of place was all it was but you heard it nonetheless. It was like a stick breaking in a quiet forest; a tiny signal made loud as thunder. You wanted to reach out and pick up the pieces. “I had songs like that too. I can’t remember the words, though.”

The breeze picked up for a moment, the lonely whistle reminding you of one of those long-lost melodies. It was a slow tune, saved for quiet nights at home. In a way, this felt like your home. Not this exact spot, of course, not even this planet, but the man himself. Din was your only sense of home now. As long you were with him, you knew where you were supposed to be. You could share that feeling with him.

“Have you ever danced, Din?” 

“I’ve... never needed to.” 

You laughed. It was a light, clear laugh, far from one of mockery. His answer was just so _him_. “Dancing isn’t about need. Can I show you?” You rose to your feet and extended a hand to him which he took hesitantly. You were honestly surprised he took it at all and without comment no less. You gently guided him into position, placing one hand on your waist and the other remaining intertwined with your own. You took note of the slight resistance he gave. He was reluctant at first, though not as much as you might have expected. While his feet would’ve preferred to remain planted, his hands followed you gladly, reveling in the gentle touch he so seldom received. It wasn’t until now that he realized he craved that feeling and he was afraid of the moment he’d lose it again. 

You began humming an old tune whose words had long since escaped you, though the feelings it brought were still strong. It reminded you of calm nights, of fireflies in the grass, of a home to call your own. You moved slowly, pulling Din with you softly as you stepped around the fire. His grip was tight and you could see his shoulders hunched even under the armor. “You’re really tense. We can stop if you don’t want—“

He didn’t even get to think before he was speaking. “ _No,_ ” was all he said, firmly but quietly. You could never force him to do anything he didn’t want to. There wasn’t a person alive that could. No, he wanted this and he made sure you knew that, even if he was uncomfortable at first. The sheer absurdity of the situation was almost enough to help him relax. He would say this must be a dream but his dreams were rarely so pleasant. 

You had said dancing wasn’t about need, but Din would disagree. Right now, need was _all_ he felt. He _needed_ you. He needed you right here, by his side. He needed to see your face, to hear your voice. He needed the feeling of your hand in his, though for the first time he wished his gloves weren’t in the way. He felt as though he were dying of thirst and you were the tide finally reaching out to meet him. If you drifted out of his reach, even for a moment, he may fall apart. This dance of yours left his head spinning. Back and forth you went, stirring up emotions he didn’t think he’d ever feel. He weighed the two options before him, between his responsibilities to uphold and the desires he buried. Back and forth, ups and downs, for better or worse. Since he met you, his life had somehow become crazier. Each day another danger and in between them lay these rare moments of intimacy. In some ways, they were even more dangerous.

As he slipped further and further into his thoughts, Din’s steps became erratic and he failed more and more to move in time with you. Your dance became as fervent as any battle, his heart beating so loud he was positive you could hear it. Your steps weren’t especially fast-paced, but it may as well have been light speed. You were tumbling past years and years of barriers that Din had set for himself, tearing them down with the violent grace of galaxies colliding. Just by asking him to dance.

You struggled to keep your foothold, distracted not only by Din’s misplaced steps, but also by your own clouded thoughts. The way his hand squeezed yours, the brush of his thigh when a step missed its mark, but most of all by the fixed gaze of his visor, that dark ‘T’ locked onto your eyes. You tried to watch your feet to prevent the inevitable collision but you couldn’t look away from him for long. It should’ve come as no surprise when your foot finally crashed into his, throwing you into momentary free fall. Your hands left his as you tumbled forward, though there was barely anywhere to go before you collided with cold beskar. Your hands gripped the first place they could find purchase which happened to be Din’s shoulders. 

His hands did the same, finely-tuned reflexes kicking in as he moved to stop your fall. He found one hand planted firmly on your upper arm, the other pressed into the small of your back. There was no space at all between you anymore, his armor the only thing preventing him from being able to touch you. It set his nerves on fire, being so close but still so far. Synapses fired beneath his skin, their messages crossing and tumbling so that the only thing he felt was _need_. For the first time, his armor felt like a cage, there to trap him as much as protect him. He had never truly considered breaking the Code before he met you but right now he wanted to so, so much. It took every last ounce of restraint not to pry the helmet off then and there and give up the fight he’d been waging against himself. 

Your face burned as you stood, held close in the Mandalorian’s arms as he was in yours. You were mere inches from the face of his helmet and you couldn’t pull your eyes away. You silently hoped that either he couldn’t see all the blood rushing to your cheeks through the tint of his visor or that his own face at least looked the same. 

This was something you wanted, that much you knew. But you were certain you couldn’t have it. You knew the Code and you knew Din. You knew that it came first and you’d come to terms with that but it didn’t change how you felt. You knew that you should stop this before one of you did or said something you couldn’t take back but you were afraid. You were afraid that if you stopped what was happening you’d never get the chance to experience it again. They were selfish impulses, yes, but you couldn’t stop yourself. So much so, in fact, that you couldn’t even stop the words that forced their way out of you.

“ _You have no idea how much I want to kiss you._ ” 

That was what finally broke him. Whatever was left of the barriers he’d put up was crushed to pieces in one sentence. Your voice was a whisper, more breath than sound, but Din had heard you loud and clear. Your tone was so soft, fragile even, but the damage it did was irreversible. The confirmation that you’d been drawn to him the same way he’d been to you was the last straw. He inhaled sharply, tilting his head forward ever so slightly until your foreheads met. His grip on you had tightened almost painfully and his eyes screwed shut as he attempted to maintain some semblance of composure. He was teetering on a razor’s edge and he wasn’t even sure which way to fall. 

“I... I _want_ to,” is all he can muster. He won’t lie to you. He _can’t_. He won’t pretend like he doesn’t feel anything, won’t act like he doesn’t want this at least as badly as you do. That would be unfair. Cruel, even. 

You looked away, that last remaining spark of hope extinguished. You weren’t mad at him. You couldn’t be if you tried. You knew what would happen if you told him and that’s why you never did. It was easier when things were up in the air. You’d been able to at least pretend that you had a chance. “I understand.” 

You began to pull away and Din felt himself falling, finally losing the balancing act that he’d been maintaining for some time now. The idea of you leaving him, of slipping from his grasp was enough to spur his mind into action. He tightened his grip once more, effectively trapping you in his arms. “I... I have an idea.” His voice was broken, far flung from the calm confidence he normally exhibited. 

“Din... what are you doing?” Your hands drifted to his helmet, not to remove it but just to hold him. He made no attempt to stop you. It was a poor mimicry of what you wanted to do, to hold his face in your hands and be able to finally see him.

He brushed a gloved hand over your eyes, forcing them shut. “You have to promise me... _promise me_ that you’ll keep your eyes closed until I say so. Please...” He wasn’t asking. He was _begging_. He _needed_ you to agree. 

You did as he said, more than willing to accept his terms. The only problem was whether or not _he_ could accept them. “Din, think about this. Are you absolutely sure that you’re okay with this? Your code—“ 

He cut you off, knowing exactly what you were trying to say. “I have thought about this. I’ve thought about this exact moment more times than I care to count. I’ve made up my mind. Please.” 

The desperation in his voice nearly broke your heart. You wondered how long he’d been holding this back. You weren’t even sure how long _you’d_ been holding back. How many times had you imagined yourself in a situation much like this with you wrapped up in his powerful arms, only for him to be thinking the same? Consequences be damned. You were going to finally give him what he had wanted for so long and in turn he would do the same.

The faintest smile broke out across your face and you nodded frantically. “I promise.” You repeated yourself, affirming the action as Din inhaled sharply. His hands left your body and you shivered at the loss of contact, not from the lack of heat but simply the lack of _him_. 

Din’s hands were shaking. Your arms had found their way around his neck, your hands balled in the fabric of his cape, turning your knuckles pale. He tried to steady his breathing as he hooked his fingers under the helmet. There was a hiss as he tugged, the warm air inside escaping. His actions were painfully slow, which made you fear he was having second thoughts. But rather the opposite was true. The first time he’d seen you without his helmet on, you’d been on death’s door, passed out and all color drained from your skin. This was nothing like that. He felt like he was seeing you for the very first time and he intended to remember every vivid detail. He feared that if he moved too fast he might miss something. He didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to see you like this again. Even with your eyes scrunched tight, brow furrowed as though it took all your focus just to do so, he never wanted to stop looking at you. 

You slowly moved your hand to his face, tracing its structure. The curve of his jaw, the hint of stubble, the shape of his mouth as he smiled, placing his hand over yours. You were disappointed when he pulled it away but only for a second. The dull thud of his helmet unceremoniously hitting the ground was your only warning before the gap between you was closed. His lips crashed into yours, Din’s desperation finally getting the better of him. It very nearly startled you into opening your eyes. You’d figured he’d never kissed anyone before but his instincts seemed to work in his favor. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t need to see him. The way he moved against you, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hair intertwined in your fingers was everything you needed. He smelled faintly of gunfire, sweat, and something else that was just distinctly _him_. It all painted an image in your mind that was utterly unique to him, as identifiable as any portrait. 

Din finally pulled away for air, something you hadn’t realized you needed and you let out a breathy laugh. You almost couldn’t believe this was happening simply because you’d been so convinced that it never would. Din wished he could capture the moment forever as if it were in carbonite. The sight of your smile alone was enough to assure him that he’d made the right choice. He let out a faint chuckle of his own as he rested his forehead against yours once more, sans helmet. 

You savored the feeling of his gentle breath on your skin, not knowing when or if you’d ever get to feel it again. “Things are going to be different now, aren’t they?” It was less of a question and more of a statement. You knew that things would change after this and the thought was exhilarating. 

Din took one last good look at you, knowing he would have to put the helmet back on in a moment. “Maybe that’s a good thing.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, already missing the taste of your lips. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to go without another moment like this, but it was time. There was just one last thing he needed to say while he could still see you with his own eyes. “Remember when you asked what ‘cyare’ means?”

You nodded and mumbled a quiet ‘mm-hm.’

“It means _‘beloved_.’”

The biggest smile broke out across your face and you couldn’t help but bury your face in his neck, using the fabric of his cape to hide how abashed you were. The sentiment was overwhelmingly sweet. Who would’ve thought he could be so charming and so awkward at the same time?

You couldn’t remember a time when you were this happy, if one even existed. He laughed, openly and honestly laughed, and you wished desperately that you could see the smile on his face. But you were content to keep your arms wrapped around him instead, only letting go long enough to put the helmet back on. 

Din nearly suffocated you with how tightly he held you, years of touch-starvation finally getting the better of him. He had a hand in your hair, the other splayed across your back. The metal on your cheek was warm to the touch, though not nearly as much as he had been. You didn’t care, though. It had been far too long since you yourself had felt a touch this gentle and it was no mystery that it had been the same for him.

He’d once likened you to a star in the wake of a supernova. Now he believed he was wrong. He never saw the beauty in the stars, not like you did. Once you’ve seen them up close, they begin to lose their shine. Only figuratively of course. Now when he looked at the stars, they were cold, lifeless, and distant. You were nothing like that. You were warm and vibrant and most importantly, you were _here_. Despite everything, you were still here. You chose to stick around, to stay with him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that, if it had ever happened at all. No, you weren’t like a star at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I officially have a playlist for this fic and I just kept listening to Stardust by New Politics during that last scene it’s so perfect. 
> 
> Look forward to lots of soft scenes! That slow burn is finally paying off.


End file.
